


First Day

by legolastariel



Series: Days trilogy [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: A little angst, M/M, a little fluff, a little humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7832146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legolastariel/pseuds/legolastariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>- Sequel to <i>Last Day on Earth</i></p><p>Negan has killed Michonne, but due to the threat of losing him, Rick has come to realize, that he's been in love with Daryl for a long time. But Daryl's condition is bad, just like Maggie's, so Rick's group sets out for the Hilltop. </p><p>But the visible wounds are not the only ones that need healing. And sometimes things get even worse, before the healing begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's not 1st person POV. There are just a few passages written in that manner, to give better insight on the characters thoughts and emotions. 
> 
> I really love to hear your thoughts, so please leave feedback. It's highly appreciated.

**First Day**

 

_Daryl’s POV:_

This isn’t what I wanted. It was never supposed to go down like this. I never even thought any of this could possibly happen. But then – was I even thinking at all?

I was furious when I left Alexandria. I was hurt. I was frustrated and pretty much reacting on impulse when I went after Dwight. It was something I had planned, fact, but I had never thoroughly thought about what my actions could cause.

If I had, I would have known that chances of catching him alone and being able to kill him were rather small. He was never alone out there, always had a bunch of his men with him. I may be a good tracker and hunter, but I can’t have my eyes and ears into all directions at once, so what chance did I ever stand against a dozen people? Yet I had to try. I made a promise and he wasn’t going to get away with killing Denise. Not him. Not after I took the chance of trusting him, saved his sorry ass and offered him a way out. Only to find myself betrayed in the end, left to my own devices and robbed not only of my crossbow and bike, but of my belief in people once more. And then him of all people killed Denise – with my own crossbow! How could I let him get away with that?  
I couldn’t. Even if it most likely meant losing my own life. Maybe at this point I don’t even give a damn anymore. Got nothing left to lose.

Before all this happened, before the apocalypse, I already had little reason to live. There was no one and nothing worth living for, but I didn’t know it any other way, so I just went on from day to day. If Daryl Dixon had just ceased to exist back then, no one would even have noticed or cared.  
But then, after things had started to go south, this former totally useless redneck suddenly had a value, was part of a group, appreciated not only for his tracking and hunting skills.  
I had friends. Even more so – for the first time in my life there was someone very special. Someone whose mere presence made me happy, someone who called me “brother”, not because we happened to be of the same blood, but because he loved me. Not the way that I love him, but enough to give my life a meaning, a reason to go on at all.  
But that has changed lately. All of a sudden _she_ was more important. After all we’ve been through together, he drifted away from me until he barely even noticed me anymore. Not enough to _see_ how much his rejection hurt me.  
Denise and I, we had a very special relationship. She was someone else, who called me brother – for a different reason, but the value remained the same. _She_ still saw me. She appreciated me. She truly cared. And then she, too, was taken away from me. And it was even my fault. 

What is there still left for me to live for? Now that I’ve known a life with a meaning, with a reason to go on at all, going back to merely existing is no option. Maybe I knew I was unlikely to return when I went after Dwight, and I didn’t care.  
But I should have known someone might follow me. I’m not fooling myself any longer. These days I would never expect that someone to be Rick. I used to be priority, so they told me. He moved Heaven and Hell to get me out of Woodbury, but that was then. Before her.  
These days I could simply vanish and he wouldn’t even ask about me, as long as she was there to warm his bed.

Cynical and bitter thoughts. The way of thinking that had driven me out of Alexandria only this morning and had started a landslide I never intended. I never wanted anyone to get hurt – save for Dwight. Despite of being jealous and hurt and, yes, angry, I never meant for her to get injured or even killed. He was happy with her. He loved her, I guess, and if there has ever been a priority to me, it was Rick’s happiness.

What did I expect? Can’t even blame him – or her. He probably doesn’t have a clue that I feel this strongly for him. I’m not a man of many words and talking about emotions has never been my cup of tea. I thought, I showed him often enough how much I love him, but the message obviously didn’t come across. I’m sure he knows I care, but it’s probably the furthest thing from his mind to see more than brotherly love and friendship in my actions.  
I should have spoken up. If there is one thing I should have learned out there, it’s that one single word can make the difference. _Claimed_. That’s what I should have said, loud and clear, a long time ago.  
But I didn’t. I thought he would figure it out himself, but he’s obviously straight as can be. Even if he may ever had a hunch, he’s probably unable to reciprocate my feelings and thus may have chosen to ignore the signs.  
Did I make him feel uncomfortable around me? Did I scare him away even? Is that why he dated the first woman to cross his path as soon as we got to Alexandria and then started a relationship with Michonne the moment Jessie had died?  
Was that a weird kind of protection against any pass I may have concidered? Why didn’t he just say so?  
He could have approached me at any time and talk to me, if he knew, but didn’t appreciate the feelings I was directing towards him. There was no need to turn and run, to hide behind one hetero affair after the other to get the message across. All I wanted was his friendship, if that was all he had to give. No more, no less. 

Ironically enough, in the end it was _her_ who followed me this morning. Along with Glenn and Rosita. And I gotta hand it to her – she was more considerate, sympathetic and supportive than anybody else.  
_We’ll square it._ I _will. I promise you._  
I can see why he loved her. She was strong and beautiful and I can’t even hate her. How could I? She didn’t even know what she took away from me. Can’t rob a man of something that was never really his. I wonder how she would have reacted, if she’d known. But now we’ll never know. She never returned to Alexandria. None of us did. We all ran into Negan’s traps and ended up in that line-up. 

I gained nothing and I failed Denise – again. I didn’t shoot Dwight the way I had intended – on the contrary. He shot me. This was the third time he could have killed me easily and yet did not, for whatever reason. I don’t understand how that guy’s mind works, don’t know what his intentions are and it doesn’t matter in the least. Maybe he’s getting some perverted kind of kick out of torturing people instead of just killing them, but sparing my life isn’t gonna save his. Nothing he does or says is gonna change the fact that he killed Denise. And if it’s the last thing I’ll ever do – he’s gonna pay for that. 

****

Rick stood on the balcony of the Barrington House, looking into the distance and yet not seeing anything at all really.  
His mind kept going back to the events of the previous night, much that he would have liked to blind everything out and simply forget. Countless times he had closed his eyes, hoping each time on reopening them that everything had just been a horrible nightmare and he would be back in Alexandria with his family – Daryl wouldn’t have been shot, Michonne would still be alive, everybody would be safe and well and Carl …  
For the umpteenth time this morning, Rick sighed and ran one hand through his unruly curls in a helpless, frustrated gesture. He knew, what he was doing was childish, but at this point blinding out the horrible truth for a while helped dealing with all these emotions that were torturing him to no end. All the guilt for getting his people into the most traumatizing situation they had ever been in. The sadness about someone close to him dying right before his eyes. The frustration about Carl’s fury and hate, directed entirely towards the wrong people. And the fear. Not just about what was going to happen next time they ran into Negan and the Saviors, but mostly the fear to lose someone else today. Someone who meant more to him than he had allowed himself to acknowledge, until last night the life of that someone could very well have ended right there and then and was in fact still at stake now.  
_Daryl._  
Rick had no idea how they had even gotten to the Hilltop last night. The entire ride was one single blur, his recollection of it a kaleidoskop of vague pictures, save for one – Daryl’s deadly pale face. _That_ he still saw in his mind’s eye crystal clear. 

Just like the entire events of the previous night still played out in his mind with a painful clarity, despite his desperate attempts to push those pictures back into the darkest corner of his mind. To no avail. There was no doubt that those memories would hound him forever, and he deserved no better. 

“No, _I_ am sorry.”

Rick remembered saying those words to Daryl, while they had hugged each other thight. Daryl, who had been there to comfort and reassure him despite of how he had treated him lately. Daryl, who had _always_ been there for him, no matter what. Daryl, who could have been the one Negan picked just as well and who would have died never knowing just how much he meant to him.  
Rick still hadn’t had a chance to tell him and it was gut-wrenching to think, that he never may. 

Negan had stood among his men, just grinning about all the pain, fear and anger he was the source of, until after a while he had said:

“Alright, people, let’s wrap it up. You can go now, but remember – you’re working for me now. A week from today we’ll be knocking on your door – _our_ door – and you best open it. Then we’ll talk about what ya’ll gonna do for me.”

After that the Saviors had taken off, laughing, hooting, sneering, until Rick’s group had been alone in the stillness of the woods. Abraham had walked over to their RV to turn the headlights on, while everybody else had remained frozen in their spot.  
Rick remembered reluctantly pulling back and looking Daryl in the eyes, while a lump in his throat had threatened to choke him.

“You haven’t been bitten, have you?” he had dared ask after a moment, dreading the answer more than anything.

“Nah”, the archer had waved the question off, “that sonuvabitch Dwight shot me in the shoulder.” 

Rick had let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank God..”

“Easy for you ta say. That hurts, man.” 

Despite himself Rick had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, wordlessly giving Daryl’s good shoulder a gentle squeeze. The skin had felt cold to his touch despite the fever the other man was obviously running and had Rick realize in that moment, that the blanket Daryl had been wrapped in, when they had pulled him out of the van, wasn’t there any longer.  
Confused he had looked around himself, not even minding to avoid that certain spot, when he had noticed Daryl’s blanket right there, covering Michonne’s body. With a questioning air on his face, he had looked into his friend’s eyes once more and saw them being averted instantly, as though Daryl didn’t dare look at him in that moment.

“I couldn’t leave her there like that, for everybody ta see what he did ta her. Especially Carl – and you.”

 

Shifting from one foot to the other on the balcony of the Barrington House, Rick pulled in a deep breath remembering that moment. Remembering the look in Daryl’s eyes when he had dared look at him after all, the way his face seemed to have grown even paler, while he was shivering violently against the pain and the cold alike. And Rick also remembered how he had felt in just that moment.  
Deeply ashamed, touched, disturbed.  
Shouldn’t he have thought of that? Shouldn’t it have been him thinking about sparing his son and the rest of the group that horrible sight? Shouldn’t he have been by Michonne’s side, paying his respects, saying his good-byes, instead of bawling his eyes out like a child, clinging to Daryl like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood?  
And those tears, shouldn’t they have been for the woman he claimed to have loved? Yet, deep down inside, he knew they were not. They were for the man in his arms. Because he had hurt him beyond words. Because he had put him through so much pain and distress. Because he’d been the worst friend imaginable to him, while Daryl still stood by him unconditionally. Because the mere thought of losing _him_ instead of her seemed to tear his heart apart. Because he knew he loved him, but didn’t know how to deal with those emotions, didn’t know what to do next – didn’t know anything anymore. 

Without hesitation Rick had straightened up to take off his jacket and had wrapped it around Daryl’s shoulders, before pulling him into another hug, rubbing his hands up and down the older man’s back to warm him up.  
He hadn’t even been surprised, when Daryl had given him a shove and had pulled back, a dark scowl on his face.

“Ya nuts, man? I ain’t no chick ya gotta give yer jacket to and hover over like a mother hen.” 

“You’re injured and it’s freezing, for crying out loud. Why you seem to be the only one allergic to jackets or sleeves on your shirts is beyond me, but I won’t have you catch pneumonia in addition to having holes shot into that body of yours, so keep the jacket!”

Despite his best attempts to keep a straight face, Rick had seen a flicker of amusement in the shadow blue eyes before him, before Daryl had retorted a gruff:

“Yes, mom.” 

With a satisfied nod Rick had gotten up with one hand gently resting on Daryl’s uninjured shoulder to have him stay put. Not that he had seriously expected the archer to get up, too. At this point Daryl had seemed to sag further with every passing second, as though his last strength was simply seeping out of him. 

It had been completely silent around Rick’s little group, as though even the wood and its creatures didn’t dare make a sound. There was no rustling of leaves, no sounds of any animals, not a breeze in the trees and no one dared say a word. They had stood in small groups, holding on to each other for comfort – Maggie had been sitting on the ground, while Glenn held her tight and kept running his hand over her hair soothingly, Abraham stood straight as a rod with one arm around Sasha’s shoulders, while Rosita had both of hers wrapped around Eugene and it was hard to determine who was comforting whom there, while Aaron stood with Carl, one hand placed reassuringly on the boy’s shoulder.  
Rick hadn’t been able to make out his son’s face. The hat was hiding it – or perhaps it was the other way around and Carl was hiding behind it. It was hard to tell. 

_“You are their leader. Still.They expect you to tell them what to do, where to go, how to deal with this. And then maybe all they really want to hear from you is “I screwed up. I suck as a leader and I step down. Anyone else wants the job?”_

Rick had pulled in a deep breath and could barely refrain from a frustrated sigh. It wouldn’t be that simple. He had almost wished it was. Not for the first time. He had never asked for this position – it was appointed to him without him ever volunteering for it, without there ever having been a vote. When he had first joined _the group_ back then, all he had wanted was to find his family – and he did. Shane had been the leader back then and how, why and when that had changed, Rick couldn’t even tell. It had been a slow and creeping process, something no clear words had ever been voiced to, nothing that had been decided upon – it just happened. Sometimes he wondered if they would be better off, if Shane was still at the helm.  
But wishful thinking wasn’t going to help him now and for the sake of all of them, he had better pull himself together and do something. Anything but display this mere picture of misery. If only he could still find a little strength, confidence and hope inside.

“I …” His voice had almost failed him, so he had started over. “I don’t know what to say, except …” 

He had meant to say _I’m sorry_ , but hesitated. Those words meant admitting to having made a major mistake, a wrong decision, to being a leader who didn’t know the way any longer. And although that had been entirely how he felt, it wasn’t helpful at all to let the others know about it. They had all been shaken enough, looking at him with fear and confusion and shock alike. Letting them know that the one person they expected guidance and answers from, had lost the way himself, would only have let to a complete breakdown. 

He had breathed in deeply once more.

“We’ll talk about things later”, he had ended the sentence determinedly. “Right now we need to go to the Hilltop as quickly as only possible to take both Daryl and Maggie to the doctor’s.”

It had been Abraham who dared ask what everybody else shunned. 

“What about Michonne?”

_Michonne._

Oh God, there had been no easy way to say this.

“We’ll come back for her on our way home.”

Carl’s head had whipped around and he had glared daggers at his father. 

“You’re just gonna leave her here like this? Don’t you give a damn?”

Anger and frustration had gotten the better of Rick.

“You know I do! But she is gone, Carl! Nothing I can do about that. But there’s two other people here I care a great deal about and they are still alive – and I’d like to keep it that way!”

“After everything Michonne has done for us – for you – she’s no more to you than food for the walkers or the wild animals?”

Rick had walked up to his son in few large strides and had grapped his shoulders, barely able to refrain from shaking the boy.

“Now you listen to me. You’re angry and you’re hurt, I get that. So am I, but we already lost one of our family tonight, we’re not gonna lose two more. _They_ have done a lot for us, too, and right now we need to repay that debt. I know you loved Michonne and I’m sorry beyond words that she was taken from you … us, but right now Daryl and Maggie are my No. 1 concern. They both need a doctor urgently and they are priority and we are going to the Hilltop – _now_.”

Carl had given his father a rough shove, glaring at him furiously as he had taken a step back. In helpless rage he had looked around himself, only to point at Daryl in the end.

“If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t have been out here! It’s all his fault!”

Out of the corners of his eyes, Rick had seen Daryl slowly turn his head and look at Carl. Due to the long bangs it had been hard to make out the expression in his eyes, but one didn’t have to be a genius to imagine the hurt in them. He hadn’t said a word. Had just looked silently at the boy. Maybe because he didn’t have the strength any longer to defend himself. And maybe because he didn’t feel the need to, because he agreed with Carl.  
To Rick however it had felt as though Carl had punched him in the guts. Secretly the very same thought had crossed his mind, too, fact, but he had dismissed it instantly. If anything, he had seen all this to be entirely his fault. Yet, if they played that game long enough, tried to analyze the domino effect further and further back, they would probably end up blaming the entire thing on Columbus for ever discovering this continent. This was senseless.

_It’s all his fault!_

“No! God damnit, Carl, if you wanna be pissed off with someone, blame me. I underestimated the threat, I got us into this, I didn’t see …”

“But Michonne was only out here, because …”

“We are not having this conversation now! If you need to be in anybody’s hair, do it later. Right now we’re going to the Hilltop. End of story.” 

Aaron had looked over to the body, swallowing hard when he noticed the red stain of blood on the blanket where Michonne’s head used to be. 

“Couldn’t we just take her along?” he had tried to conciliate.

Rick had sighed audibly.

“No. We need the room in the RV and we cannot show up in the Hilltop with a body. And there is no time for a proper funeral now. We’ll come back on our way home, like I said.” 

“It’s only few more miles and we shouldn’t have anything to fear from the Saviors for now”, Aaron had said softly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay and bury her and then follow you on food.”

“Me, too”, Carl had cut in, a provocative air on his face. 

“I’m in”, Abraham had added and Sasha next to him had given a confirmative nod. 

Rick had looked from one to the other with wide eyes. Where they just trying to help? Where they paying Michonne the respect she deserved, something that should have been his part? Or was this open mutiny? They spoke up against his decision and one by one refused to follow him to the destination he had just appointed. And _if_ he still was the leader he so desperately fought to be, he should know just what to do now. Yet he was a total loss for words. 

“Hey”, Abraham’s inflection had been gentle. “Don’t worry. I’ll have an eye on Carl and we’ll be in the Hilltop before you even know it.” He had nodded in the direction of the RV. “Eugene knows how to drive that baby and he knows the way, too. Get going.” 

There had been the answer. No mutiny. Just a way better solution than Rick had come up with. For a moment there he had been torn. Shouldn’t he stay and help bury Michonne? After all, last thing everybody knew was that they had been in a relationship and she should mean enough to him to do this for her now. And she did. But there was someone here who needed him, too. And that someone meant even more to him.  
For another second he had been torn between what his conscience and his heart told him, when Rosita’s alarmed call had decided for him.

“Daryl!”

Without anybody even noticing, the archer had passed out and had silently fallen over, lying motionless on the cold ground. 

“No!”

Rick had been there in a second, dropping to Daryl’s side with panic written all over his face. He had touched him gently, dreading the worst and barely able to breathe.  
The worst … Losing Daryl before having been able to tell him how he felt. Losing him _at all_ and having to go on without him. – Having to put him down, so he wouldn’t turn.  
His stomach had cramped up painfully. After all this time, after having put down countless walkers, after having witnessed people close to him having to do this for loved ones they had lost, this was the first time he truly understood just how they must have felt. It meant having to stab or shoot a person in the head you loved with all your heart, harming someone in such a gruesome way you never wanted to see getting harmed at all.  
New tears had pooled in his eyes all of a sudden, obstructing his sight and he was grateful when someone dropped to Daryl’s other side and calmly checked for a pulse. 

“He just passed out, Rick”, Aaron’s gentle voice had said a moment later. “But his pulse is faint and racing. Blood pressure is probably way too low by now. He’s lost a lot of blood. You need to take him to that doctor quickly.”

“Alright, people”, Abraham’s strong voice had sounded across the clearing. “Party’s over. Let’s get the show on the road here. Aaron, Eugene – help Rick carry Daryl into the RV. And you … “ he had stepped up to Glenn and dropped his big hand solidly onto the Asian’s shoulder, … “lemme give ya a hand with your lady here.” 

Before Glenn even had a chance to protest, the red-haired man had lifted Maggie off the ground and carried her easily to the RV, followed by Rick, Eugene and Aaron, who were carrying the unconscious archer.  
Rick had been more than grateful for someone to take the helm and give clear commands. It was just what his people needed right now – a strong leader, someone with confidence and the energy to make decisions. Everything that right in that moment he was not. 

“In back with both of them”, Abraham had called over his shoulder to them. “Got two beds back there.”

For a second there it had appeared as though he was going to add a totally inappropriate ambiguous remark, but had thought better in the end. A moment later both Maggie and Daryl had been placed into the two bunks in back of the RV and Eugene had sat behind the steering wheel, waiting for someone to give the command to start up, while Rosita had lowered herself into the passenger seat.  
Rick had extended his hand in a wordless gesture of gratitude to Abraham, before the tall redhead had left the RV to return to Aaron, Sasha and Carl, who had been waiting next to Michonne’s body.  
For a moment Rick had considered staying after all. Paying her the respect she deserved, but his heart wouldn’t let him. He had taken one look at Daryl’s unconscious form and knew that his place was right there with him. There was no way he was going to leave him. If anything was to happen while he wasn’t there … No, he would come back later, as he had promised. On their way back home, they would stop here once more, but right now there was nothing he could do for her. She was gone. But he was not going to lose Daryl, too. Or Maggie. He just couldn’t. 

The ride to the Hilltop hadn’t been long. Just like Aaron had said – it was just a few more miles, but still it appeared to be endless in Rick’s memory. Each second had stretched into minutes, while each minute had felt like an hour.  
_“Faster! Go faster!”_  
He had silently implored Eugene to drive as quickly as he could, knowing at the same time that the darkness, the narrow road, the age of the RV and everybody’s fatigue wasn’t allowing a quicker pace as the one they were already travelling by.  
Both he and Glenn had sat on the edge of either bed, not talking, not even looking at each other. While Glenn had held Maggie’s hand, gently running his other one over her hair time and again, Rick had fought the impulse to do the same with Daryl.  
He wanted to touch him so badly, not just to let the archer know he was there, but because he himself would have needed the contact, if only to feel that there was still life in the still and deadly pale man.  
Yet he dared not, didn’t mean to rise suspicion of any kind. At this point he didn’t want anyone to know how he felt for Daryl – not before he had had a chance to talk to him and not right now, while the woman he had just recently been in a relationship in, was buried. He knew what that looked like.  
After Jessie died, the dust hadn’t even settled before he had been with Michonne and now that she had been killed not even an hour ago, he had no intention of anyone finding out that in truth he loved Daryl. Lately his renown had gotten quite a few dents as it was – he wondered what people would have to say about him, if they found out. If he were a woman, _slut_ would most likely be the reputation he was to go by from now on.  
He didn’t even bother trying to figure out, if there was an appropriate nome for a man like him. But he came up with several adjectives, that applied to him perfectly. _Confused_ was one of them. _Mislead_ another one. _Stupid_ was most definitely on the list, too. But those were about the past. The only one that mattered to him _now_ was _in love_.  
The moment that thought had settled in his mind, he had thrown all caution to the wind and had gently taken Daryl’s hand in his. Despite the fever he was running, it had felt cold, as though the archer’s body was shutting down bit by bit, starting with the extremities. There just wasn’t enough blood left to keep them warm and despite of the cloth they had applied to the wound, the bleeding hadn’t stopped.  
Halfway through the ride, Maggie had asked Glenn to get her some water and as soon as her husband had left the small room, she had reached over to Rick and had gotten hold of his free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He had looked at her with watery eyes, totally aware of the pathetic sight he was giving. At that point he hadn’t even cared any longer.  
For a short moment her eyes had drifted to the joined hands of the two men and to Rick’s surprise there had been the ghost of a smile on her pale features.

“I wonder where we’d be, if Andrea had shot him back then”, she had said unexpectantly, more to herself than Rick. When she felt him flinch, she had looked at him apologetically. “Sorry, that was a dumb thing to say.”

Rick shook his head.

“No, it was not. You thinking that way only shows that some people consider him to make a difference. I guess, sometimes he still doesn’t believe in that. Still only sees no more than a _fucking_ Dixon in himself, as though that was some kind of disease. I guess, if you grew up being told over and over again that you are a worthless piece of shit, it takes more than an apocalypse to get that out of your head.” Unconsciously he gave Daryl’s hand a squeeze, while he turned his head to look at him again.  
“Don’t know about you, Maggie, but I know exactly where I’d be without him – long gone. He saved my sorry ass more times than I can count.”

_“And where were you, Rick Grimes, when this happened to him?”_

She had remained silent for a moment, thinking about what he’d said and how he’d said it. His overall demeanor had given the impression, that his self-esteem and his faith had taken quite a blow and her heart had gone out to him.

“I still believe in you.” 

He’d drawn in a deep breath, not daring to look at her.

“Why?”

“Rick, look at me.” And when he didn’t comply, she had repeated it more sternly. “Look at me!” As soon as she got his attention she continued:  
“I know, you are blaming yourself for what happened today. In fact, whenever things go wrong, you blame yourself, but let me tell you one thing – we are all adults here. Even Carl. We make our own decisions and when we follow you, when we agree to your plans, it’s our own free will to do so. Either one of us had a chance to say ‘No’ at any given time, but we trusted you. You’ve gotten us this far and it was you believing in anyone of us first, so we are merely returning the favor. You had no way of knowing this was gonna happen. Neither one of us had. There was nothing anyone could have done. But together we’ll find a way through this – as always. You just can’t stop believing in yourself now.”

Rick had choked back new tears, wondering for just a moment how anyone could believe in a pathetic sissy as he was today, but a movement behind him had distracted him and look up into Glenn’s face.

“I agree”, was pretty much all the young Asian had said, while he had sat down next to his wife again, holding out a bottle of water to her. 

He handed another one to Rick and gave a curt nod in Daryl’s direction.

“In case he wakes up. By now he’s probably dehydrated as well.” 

The look on Rick’s face had Maggie reach for his hand once more and give it another reassuring squeeze.

“We’re almost there.”

Rick had returned the gesture, while he couldn’t help clenching his teeth. Shouldn’t it be _him_ reassuring _her_? Wasn’t she the one in pain and fear for her unborn child? How much did his people think he had already given to them, to be worth that much in return?


	2. Chapter 2

_Rick’s POV:_

It must have been the longest ride of my entire life, although in fact it probably wasn’t even half an hour or only little more till the Hilltop came into sight. Why there are even people on sentry on top of the wall is beyond me. For all I know, the only enemy to fear out there is the Saviors and the Hilltop people wouldn’t dare _not_ open the gate when they appear on their doorstep. So why bother closing it at all?  
Only took a moment for them to recognize us and let us in without further questions. We did move up a few notches in their estimation ever since we dared attack one of Negan’s outposts, although they don’t seem to have any idea what we have caused by that.  
As soon as Eugene had stopped the RV on the plaza before the Barrington House, Jesus was there to meet us. I wonder if that guy ever sleeps at all. He seems to be wide awake and vibrant at any hour of the day, seven days a week. I want some of the drugs he’s doing. I could tell he was alarmed when he stepped into the RV, simply due to the late hour we’d been showing up, and as soon as he had taken one look at Daryl and Maggie his eyes became as large as saucers. 

“What on Earth …?”

“No time to explain now”, I cut in. “Maggie’s sick and you know she’s pregnant and Daryl’s been shot. We need Harlan here right now.”

He gave a curt nod.

“I’ll get him.”

Only minutes later a sleeply looking Harlan Carson appeared in the doorway of the RV and made his way straight to the back, where he was met by eager and fearful eyes – Glenn’s and mine alike.

“Hey,” he greeted us, “I wish, we would meet again under more pleasant circumstances. Gimme some room to take a look at the patients, please.”

He turned to Maggie first, but she shook her head instantly, displaying a brave face despite of the pain she was in.

“Look at Daryl first, please. He passed out about an hour ago and he’s lost a lot of blood.” 

Out of the corners of my eyes I saw Glenn about to protest and I couldn’t even blame him. Naturally she and their unborn baby were closer to his heart and he wanted to see them being taken care of instantly, but in the end he didn’t say a word. He just cast me a quick glance and shut his mouth again. I don’t know, what exactly he has seen in my eyes, but it must have convinced him that there was someone else here, who was just as scared and worried as he was. And at that moment the person I was worrying for was apparently worse off than Maggie.

Harlan pulled in a sharp breath, when he removed the cloth from Daryl’s wound and then turned around to look at me.

“How long since that happened?”

Glenn answered for me.

“Some time this afternoon.” 

“Afternoon? It’s past midnight. He’s been bleeding like this for hours? It’s a miracle he still got a drop of blood left in his body at all.”  
The doctor put two fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp whistle. Only seconds later two more heads appeared in the doorway.  
“Kal, Eduardo, do me a favor and help Rick carry Daryl over to my trailer. I need to look at that shot wound instantly. I’ll have a look at Maggie and be right there.”

That’s the last time I saw Maggie and Glenn. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and him a reassuring handshake, before Kal, Eduardo and I lifted Daryl off the bed and carried him over to the doctor’s trailer.  
Carson stayed in the RV with them for a little while, but he wouldn’t give me any information on Maggie’s condition when he finally came over to the examination room. He said it was too early to say anything for sure and that he needed to do an ultrasound exam as soon as he had taken care of Daryl. For the time being she was stable and he had given her something for the pain – that was all the information given and up until now I haven’t heard anything else.  
I wouldn’t even know where Eugene and Rosita went. Hopefully the Hilltop people took care of them, gave them something to eat and a place to get some rest, as far as anyone of us is able to eat and sleep at all tonight. For a moment I wondered how long it would take for Carl, Abraham, Sasha and Aaron to make their way back to us, but the nagging feeling of worry only lasted a few seconds. They’d be okay, that I was sure of. Aaron was probably right – for now there’s no danger as far as the Saviors are concerned, so what could possibly happen?  
Harlan asked me to leave the trailer, while he was working on Daryl, but I wouldn’t have it. I couldn’t leave. I had to be there.  
I stopped believing in God a long time ago, but right in that moment, for some unknown reason, I had the feeling that He was present. And He didn’t like what He saw. Perhaps He thought it was time for a punishment, for I’m sure I was guilty of quite a few of the deadly seven sins. Pride first of all. And wrath. And lust. Enough to put me back in my place and if He really meant to teach me a lesson, He just had to pull the rug out from under my feet.  
Taking Daryl away from me, would be the worst punishment imaginable. To lose Carl or Judith would mean losing a part of me and the thought is unbearable.  
But Daryl … He is even more than a part of me. He is the other half of my soul. How could I deny that for so long? Without him, I’m gonna fall and never get up again. 

_“Please. Don’t. Not him. If you take him, you’ll be punishing him, too. He’s been through so much already and he’s had a shitty life for the most part, for whatever reason. He deserves better. Let me make it up to him. Gimme the chance to make him happy, to let him see brighter days. I’ll try harder from now on. I am guilty of lots of things, I see that now. I promise, I’ll do better – for all of them. Just … please … not Daryl. Not Daryl. Not Daryl …”_

The prayer became a mantra after a while and when Harlan noticed that there was no getting through to me any longer, he let me have my way. 

“Kal, wake Rose, please, and tell her I need assistance here on the double.” 

After that, both Kal and Eduardo disappeared and didn’t come back. Instead an elderly woman with chubby, rosy cheeks entered shortly after, giving me a motherly and encouraging smile that soothed me instantly. 

“Rose, we’ve got a shot wound here. The bullet appears to have gone right through the shoulder, but the patient has lost a lot of blood, blood pressure is way down and he’s running a fever. May be an infection even. We need to clean the wound and he needs stitches.”

“Antibiotics, too?”

A concerned frown appeared on Harlan’s face and with a sigh he shook his head. 

“Not right now. I gotta see first, if …” He had trailed off. “God, I wish I could do an X-ray”, he then said more to himself than anybody in particular, while he looked closely at Daryl’s wound. “Can’t see a damn thing in there, so we just have to hope that bullet went through in one piece and as for internal damage, I can only guess.” 

“Harlan …” 

Rose’s voice sounded slightly warning and when he looked up, he must have noticed that my face had turned even paler than it had already been. 

“Oh. Sorry about that, Rick. Try not to worry too much. I’m sure, as soon as we patched him up, he’ll be just fine.” 

The elderly woman couldn’t help rolling her eyes.

“Dear Lord, that sounded shallow even to my ears and I’ve delivered that kind of crap every day when I was still a nurse.”

She placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, a kind smile spreading over her chubby cheeks when I looked up to her. 

“Let’s put it this way – we can’t make any promises, but we’re gonna do everything we can to have your friend back on his feet. Harlan’s a good doctor, you know.”

“I’m the _only_ doctor”, Carson cut in.

“I _know_ ”, she replied with a wink in my direction. “That’s why.” 

It was meant well and at any other time, I would have laughed about her joke. But right in that moment nothing was able to take even the slightest bit of worry away. Nothing. Save for someone telling me, that Daryl was okay and would definitely live. Something no one in that room was obviously able to do. 

“Alright, enough chit-chat, Rose”, Harlan mildly chided her, still shaking his head about her bad timing as far as making jokes was concerned. “Rick, why don’t you go sit over there in the corner, if you must stay, and Rose, I will need an IV and the strongest magnet you can find.”

Her eyebrows rose to her hairline.

“A magnet?”

“If the bullet or any fragments of it are still in there, that may get it out. It’s the only idea I’ve got and the only thing we can do, since we don’t have an X-ray.” 

She cocked her head, still raising her eyebrows.

“Harlan, I know it’s unlikely for him to be pregnant, but you may wanna use that ultrasound scanner nevertheless. Sounds like the better solution to me, if a _magnet_ is the only alternative you can come up with.” Shaking her head she turned to me and said: “Can you tell he’s a gyn and not a surgeon?”

I felt caught in the worse kind of soap opera imaginable. Were those two even serious? What was going on here? I felt an incredible annoyance rising inside of me, when I saw Harlan run his hands through his hair.

“Damn, you are right. What was I thinking? Get me some coffee, Rose. Strongest you can find. I need to wake up here.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you need to do!” I know, I was yelling at the only doctor around, but I couldn’t help it any longer. “Pull yourself together, for Christ’s sake. That’s not just a harmless scratch there, God damnit. The more time you’re wasting here, the less time he may have. I can’t lose him! You hear me? I can’t lose him, too.”

What did I just say? I saw Harlan stare at me for a moment with wide eyes and just for a second there, I was gonna add “He’s important to my group”, but I reconsidered. No more excuses for something that doesn’t need any. No more explantions for something that was plain and simple – I love that man and I can’t lose him. Simple as that. 

“Please”, I added softer, “we … _I_ need him. We already lost someone tonight. Not him, too. Or Maggie.”

Harlan looked genuinly embarrassed. 

“I’m really sorry, Rick. It’s just … haven’t slept properly in ages. Being the only doctor means being on duty around the clock, seven days a week. And Gregory is a pain in the ass patient, I can tell you that.” He had slapped his own cheeks to wake up. “Rose, the coffee! I’ll get the ultrasound.”

A minute later he rolled the device over to the examination table and examined Daryl’s shoulder with it. How anyone can see anything in those odd black and white patterns on that screen is beyond me, but only a moment later a relieved smile spread over the doctor’s face.

“Don’t see anything that’s not supposed to be there”, he said. “Now comes the hard part.” The smile dropped off of his face. “I’m gonna do the stitches now, but unfortunately I can’t give him an anesthetic. We ran out the day before yesterday. Ran out of lots of things lately. A couple of us are out there on a supply run, but they’re not back yet.”

 

_~ Flashback ~_

My hands start to shake despite my best intentions to stay calm.  
This all feels like a terrible déjà-vu. Only last time I sat beside Carl’s bed, after he had been shot in a hunting accident. That seemed to have been such an incredibly long time ago. Lori had still been there. And Shane. And Carl had still been such a cute, innocent little boy. Everything has changed, safe for the way I feel. Then and now. No difference at all.  
Fear. Helplessness. The urge to do something and yet being powerless to do any more than pray, and even that I fail at. 

****

_Daryl’s POV:_

Voices. Can’t understand what they’re sayin’, but the inflection sounds concerned. Ain’t cold anymore. ‘twas so damn cold before. Pain’s still there, but other than that I feel completely numb. Ma head’s so heavy. Can’t even lift it. Can’t move a muscle. Tired. So tired. What’s goin’ on? Where am I?  
Someone touching ma shoulder. Hurts. Stop it! It’s much brighter than it was before, but I can’t see. Ma eyes are closed. Can’t open them. Want to see where I am and who’s there, but I can’t … Is that still Negan’s men? Whatta they doin’ ta me? Don’t matter. Rick! Are you here? No, you can’t be here. Don’t want ya to. If those are Negan’s men, they gonna hurt ya, too. Hear your voice now. You _are_ here. Run! Get outta here. Don’t worry about me, just get outta here. They need ya. Carl and Judith and the rest of the group. They all need ya. _I_ need ya. If I make it outta here, I want ya to be safe. You’re worried, and scared. Can hear it. Can _feel_ it. Hands on me again, holdin’ ma arms and legs in place. Damn, gotta move. Gotta get out of here. Let go of me, you pricks! Rick!

****

_Rick’s POV:_

Something has changed. Harlan is getting ready to stich up Daryl’s wound and has ordered Rose and me to hold Daryl’s arms and legs down, in case he was to wake up during the procedure. It feels wrong to do that, although I know it’s for his best. It feels like an assault to me what we are about to do – one hurting him, while two others hold him down.That’s what the school bully and his gang used to do to any random victim and neither I, nor Shane ever looked the other way, always stepped right in to stop it when it occurred. I never thought, I would ever be part of this. It felt terrible when I had to do it to Carl and if feels just as terrible now.  
But there’s something else. I can feel it. Daryl’s still unmoving, not one muscle twitching, his face ashen and apparently calm, but although I don’t actually see a change, I _know_ it’s there.There’s a voice in the back of my head, that seems to be calling out to me, although no one around says a word. It’s as though there is a presence that sends shivers down my spine, makes me feel nervous and on edge and has my heartbeat accelerate for no obvious reason. There’s an urge deep down inside all of a sudden to do or say _something_ , but I don’t know what and I don’t know why.

*******

_“Rick!”_

“Daryl?”

I give Harlan a signal to wait and bend down to look closely at Daryl’s face, but there is no reaction. I could have sworn …

“Rick, he’s unconscious. And if we are lucky, he’ll stay that way till I’m done. We need to start now.”

_“Rick!!”_

“I’m sorry”, I loosen my grip on Daryl’s arms and run one hand gently and soothingly up and down his strong biceps before pulling back completely.  
“I can’t do this. Feels as though … I just can’t. I’ll get Eduardo to give you a hand.” 

That said I hurry outside, where I see Eduardo and Kal sitting in front of one of the trailers, sharing a smoke. It doesn’t take a lot of pursuasion on my side to have Eduardo hurry over to the doctor’s trailer to give Harlan a hand, while I just stand in the middle of the plaza, fighting a myrad of emotions.  
Have I deserted him just now? Should I be there? Was that really him I heard in my head just now or was I hallucinating? 

The next moment I hear him scream, while Harlan yells at Eduardo and Rose to hold on tighter. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Kal run past me over to the trailer to give them a hand in there. One more, who is going to hold Daryl down forcefully.  
Daryl, who must be completely disorientated, not knowing where he is or what is happening to him. Waking to an excruciating pain with strange faces hovering over him, that he may or may not recognize after the one time he has seen them before. Does he understand that they are only trying to help him? Or is he too confused, too delirious to see he is being treated by a doctor? Does he fight and try to get away from those strangers that are torturing him, while he is all alone in there, no familiar face around, no one near to come to his aid?  
I want to be there with him more than anything. Hold his hand and tell him everything is going to be okay. I want him to know I’m there, that he’s not alone, but I remember the way Carl looked at me back then, when I held him down while Hershel removed fragments of the bullet that had hit him. I remember how his eyes screamed at me: _How can you let him do this to me? How can you allow anyone to hurt me this much and even be part of it?_  
I never want anyone I love to look at me that way again. I don’t want Daryl having to endure this torture, while looking into my face, knowing I am _there_ , yet not doing anything at all to stop it.  
Is that a cowardly way of thinking? Maybe. Probably. I cannot tell.  
All I know is that I dropped to the ground right there in the middle of the plaza just now, covering my ears against Daryl’s gut-wrenching screams. 

_“Hang on! I’m here. It’s gonna be okay.”_

I don’t know, if he heard me. The voice in my head has gone quiet. 

_~ End of flashback ~_

 

I can’t remember how long I’ve been sitting right there on the ground, hugging my knees and hiding my face in the crook of my arms. Minutes? Hours? I cannot tell. I vaguely recall the gate being opened by the sentry and a group of people coming in, heading straight to the RV, but I didn’t bother meeting them. Carl, Sasha, Abraham and Aaron. They were back. For just a split second I felt relieved, but that relief was quickly replaced again by anguish.  
It was quiet now. Daryl’s screams had ended abruptly a while back, which disturbed me even more than having to listen to his agony. Is he okay? Is he even still alive? Why don’t they tell me? 

“Hey”, a soft voice next to me pulled me out of my thoughts and I looked up to find myself face to face with Aaron. “What are you doing here?”

Good question. One there was no easy answer to. Hiding? Running? Lingering in denial? Fighting my fears? Being a coward? Hoping against hope?

“Daryl?”

That is all I was able to choke out in the end.

“They have taken him to a room in the Barrington House to rest. Harlan is taking care of Maggie now. He said, he was gonna come talk to you as soon as he’s done.” 

I gave a confirmative nod, before I dared ask.

“How’s is he? Daryl.”

Before Aaron had a chance to reply, we heard Maggie start to cry inside the trailer and once again I felt as though someone had just punched me in the stomach. Now what? God, no, not her baby. What else? What more? Is this ever gonna end? 

****

 

Dawn was breaking. The first golden sunrays of another sunny Virginia morning made their shy appearance at the horizon and shone on a lone figure sitting in one corner of the balcony of the Barrington House.  
Rick was waiting. How long he had actually been sitting here, waiting, he could not tell. After Aaron had filled him in that Harlan was going to see him as soon as he was done with Maggie’s treatment and that Daryl had been taken to a room inside the house, Rick had gotten up from his spot in the middle of the plaza, had asked Aaron to inform Harlan that he was headed for the house as well and had then walked up to the large front porch with the impressive columns.  
Secretly he had intended to go on a search for Daryl. Had absolutely intended to open each and every door in this huge house, until he had found him. In the end he had reconsidered. Not right away – only after having ended up in one or the other linen or broom closet, bathroom and rooms occupied by people, who were less than thrilled of being woken, one even tossing a book at his head.  
He had ended up on the balcony, a place he found extremly soothing for some strange reason and had huddled down in one of the corners.  
At one point he must have dozed off, for how long he couldn’t even tell, but despite being exhausted and running on empty, a restful sleep wouldn’t come to him. Not while sitting on the cold and hard ground and, first of all, waiting for news he feared were unlikely to be good ones.  
He heard footsteps in the hallway inside and a moment later a shadow appeared next to him, having him reluctantly lift his head.  
Harlan cast him a soft smile, before he stepped up to the parapet and looked into the distance.

“Aaron told me I’d find you in the house. Well, technically you’re not, but I had a hunch this was where you’d be. I love coming here myself, when I need a place to think and catch a breather.”

He was playing for time and Rick knew it. Whatever it was he had to tell him, those weren’t good news and Rick’s heartbeat accelerated instantly. Slowly he got to his feet and came to stand next to the young doctor.

“Just spit it out. How are they?”

Harlan breathed in deeply, as though he was bracing himself for the conversation he couldn’t avoid, much that he would have wanted to.

“Maggie … well, I don’t have all the means to do proper tests, but it looks like a toxoplasmosis infection. I’m not gonna bother you with all the details, but she isn’t doing too well, and untreated this can do extrem damage to the fetus, may even lead to a miscarriage.”

“But she still got the baby?”

“Yes, but she needs antibiotics instantly. Same goes for Daryl. The shoulder wound is infected and he’s suffered severe blood loss, as you know. His body is unlikely to fight both, so he needs a transfusion first of all and antibiotics would be helpful, too.”

Rick shifted his weight impatiently from one foot to the other.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Harlan sighed audibly and averted his eyes, once more looking out over the apparently peaceful land.

“Told you – we pretty much ran out of lots of things. That includes antibiotics. Gregory was so freaked out over his stab wound that he insisted on a treatment, although it may not even have been necessary.” 

Harlan’s expression darkened and his inflection clearly carried annoyance. Then he breathed in deep once more and slowly turned around to Rick.

“There is no easy way to say this. I wish there was, but … we only got one dosis left. I can treat Maggie, or I can treat Daryl – it’s not enough for both of them. So I need you to make a decision.”

It took a moment for Rick to process the information, but when it had finally settled, the comprehension hit him like a fist. He swayed as his knees threatened to buckle and held on to the parapet.

This couldn’t be happening. They had made it out of Negan’s trap. They had made it this far. There was a doctor here, there was medicine here and now the man was telling him, that he still – although they got here in time against all odds – could only save one of them? One of them was likely going to die nevertheless? And Harlan wanted _him_ to make that life or death decision now. Say a name and thereby sealing the other one’s fate.  
Can you even demand that of anybody? Did he, Rick, even have a _right_ to make that decision? Was he even able to make it? Especially since there wasn’t really a decision to make, and Harlan knew that, too. He just wanted Rick’s confirmation, wanted to hear it out loud and clear. Wanted to hear him say the name. The only logical and rightful choice and yet the word got stuck in Rick’s throat. 

_“No! No! No! No!! Can’t say it … Can’t. Please. No.”_

“Rick.” 

Harlan watched the other man cling to the parapet like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. Rick’s blue eyes darted in all directions, as though he was desperately trying to find a solution, a way out, _any_ answer at all. Tears were pooling in his eyes and the last bit of color that had been in his face seemed to have just dropped off. He was as white as a sheet, shaking his head to himself.

“Rick!”

Rick raised his hands defensively.

“Do you know what you’re asking? They are both part of my family and you’re telling me now, you can only save one of them? And you want me to point the finger? Want me to decide who’s to live and who’s to die?”

“No. I’ve already made that decision. I just need to hear from you, if you are okay with it.”

“If I was _okay_ with it?!” Rick’s eyes were blazing. “We already lost one of our family out there last night. She was beaten do death by Negan, because we challenged the man, because we went out there to take care of the Savior problem and not one of you people warned us! No one said a word about the number and strength of Negan’s group. You let us run to our doom! And now that we need help, you’re telling me that selfish prick Gregory ate the antibotics as though they were candy and therefore we’re gonna lose one more of our family. Someone who could have been saved. Thank you for making that decision. I bet that was a hard thing to do. If I was _okay_ with it?!”

His voice carried over the plaza and several people looked up to the balcony, but Rick didn’t notice any of them. He knew, he was yelling at the wrong person, but he couldn’t help himself, didn’t know how to handle all that pain a moment longer. Of course, he knew how Harlan had decided.  
Helplessly he ran both hands through his curls, fighting to regain his composure. He hadn’t even noticed they’d been balled into fists, hadn’t noticed that single tear that had run down his cheek. 

“Maggie”, he choked out after a moment, before his knees gave way and he dropped back to the ground with his back against the parapet. 

Harlan crouched down next to him and placed one hand gently on his shoulder, giving a confirmative nod.

“Thought so.”

“I can’t decide any other way”, Rick said almost inaudibly, while staring blankly ahead of himself. “She’s pregnant and she’s married and … how could I ever face Glenn again, if I decided against his family?” Another tear slipped down his cheek.  
“But Daryl …” 

_“Do you have any idea what you just had me do? I’ve made so many wrong decisions lately. I was blind, I was stupid, I was everything I never wanted to be. But I thought, I knew the way now. And I wanted to follow that path so badly – with Daryl by my side. And now you’re telling me, I’m gonna lose him after all. And I even just signed his death sentence.”_


	3. Chapter 3

  
_ “Do you have any idea what you just had me do? I’ve made so many wrong decisions lately. I was blind, I was stupid, I was everything I never wanted to be. But I thought, I knew the way now. And I wanted to follow that path so badly – with Daryl by my side. And now you’re telling me, I’m gonna lose him after all. And I even just signed his death sentence.”  _

          “Daryl would have decided the same way”, Harlan said cautiously.

     “How would you know?” Rick snapped. “You don’t even know him.” 

The doctor gave a curt nod.

     “That’s right, but … he saved my life. He and Glenn. When I was trapped in that house the other day, with no means to get out unharmed. He was there, as was Glenn, risked his life to get me out, no questions asked. And he didn’t know me, either. I know a man of honor when I see him. You and your people, you all have honor. You still live by a code, still know right from wrong and I don’t see anyone of you decide selfishly in their own favor, dooming an unborn baby and its mother.”

Rick hung his head, his hands once more balled to fists.

     “Doesn’t make it easier. I really … care for Daryl. He’s like a brother to me – and more. I …”

     “Don’t write him off just yet. He’s a strong fellow as far as I can tell. Can’t do much about the infection, but his body may be able to handle that itself, if we are able to compensate for the blood loss. He needs transfusions on the double. You know his blood type?” 

Rick shook his head.

     “No.”  
      
     “Does he have any relatives?”

     “Had a brother, but he’s dead. Besides,” Rick gave an angry snort, “I doubt Merle would have known. No one of Daryl’s family for that matter.”

Harlan cocked his head. Rick’s reaction on mentioning Daryl’s family told him all he had to know, without asking further. 

     “I see. In that case, I gotta run some tests. And as soon as we know, I have to find someone of the same blood type. Takes time and a lot of luck. Let’s just hope, he doesn’t have a very rare type. Till then, all we can do is get more liquid into him, try to get him to eat something so he builds up some strength and … just be there, I guess.” 

     “Is he conscious?”

     “Barely. He’s fading in and out, but he’ll know that you are there. Rose is with him at the moment, but she needs to see to Maggie and two other patients as well and I’d rather have someone with Daryl permanently.”

For a moment there Rick didn’t catch Harlan’s drift, but then he sucked in the air audibly, as he understood.   
     _I’d rather have someone with Daryl permanently._  
Not only to see to the archer’s needs, but to make sure he was put down in time, in case he died.  
      
     _“Oh God …”_

Rick pulled in another deep breath and got back onto his feet with a determined air on his face. If there was nothing else he could do for Daryl, being with him he could. He wasn’t going to leave him. He would be there for him – to whatever end. 

     “Where is he?”

     “First room to the left.” Harlan pointed to the door. “You’ve been sitting practically right outside his room all this time.” 

That had the ghost of a smile flash over Rick’s face.

     _“See, I was here with you all the time, Daryl. And I hope, you knew it, too.”_

 

_ Daryl’s POV: _

Light. Sun’s coming up. Thank God, that horrible night is finally over. Doesn’t change matters though. Not just the night has ended. Michonne… God, I’m so sorry.

It should have been me – not her. Rick loved her, he needs someone by his side in all of this and I remember his expression, his reaction when he realized it was her who Negan killed. He was devastated, started crying right there and then and there was nothing I could do instead of just holding him. If I could trade places, I would.   
Li’l asskicker would have needed a mom, just like Carl. Not an entirely poor rolemodel like me.   
The shock ran too deep, the pain was too raw and I was the only one there when Rick pulled me into that hug. He needed comfort, someone to lean on, he couldn’t think straight, but in time he’s gonna come to the same conclusion as Carl – it’s my fault that Michonne died.   
She was out there because of me. I destroyed Rick’s happiness and the new little family.  
I wish, Negan would have picked me. When he pointed Lucille at Michonne, declaring her to be his victim, I was close to volunteering. Not for her – for Rick. And Carl and Judith. I figured, if Rick wanted her by his side, then she should be. Despite of it all, I still love him so fucking much. Just want him to be happy.   
I was just about to move, when she must have sensed the way my muscles had tensed or how I had drawn in a deep breath to speak up. The next second she had flashed me a warning glance, only slighty shaking her head _No._  
And she was even right. Negan wouldn’t have appreciated any volunteer, any interference with his choice. He may have gone through with his threat to have Carl’s eye cut out and fed to Rick, before he would have killed me for interfering. In the end he would have bashed in Michonne’s head after all, simply because she’d been his choice.   
There was nothing I could have done to change matters and she stopped me from making them even worse. 

We are in the Hilltop now, I guess. I don’t even know how we got here – the memory is all blurred. I must have been fading in and out all the time, the blood loss and pain from my shot wound finally taking their toll, despite of my attempts to stay on top of things.   
I remember pain. People holding me down. Rick. He was there and then he was gone all of a sudden. I’m alone now.  
The doctor left a while ago after taking care of the injury. Said the bullet went right through the shoulder, which was good, but I was shot at close range and that caused quite some damage and severe blood loss. Don’t have to be a genius to know that _ain’t_ good. I feel like shit, not necessarily due to the injury, though. The pain is excruciating – this time I’m even sure the shot wound is the least cause for that.   
Where is everybody? I know Rick was in the RV with me, just like Glenn and Maggie, but I wouldn’t know if the others even accompanied us here. Nobody came to see me yet and maybe they won’t. Maybe by now they’ve all come to the conclusion that Michonne’s death is on me and that my actions endangered Glenn and Rosita just the same. Maybe they figured I was causing more trouble these days than being of any help. They may have left me behind, returned to Alexandria without me, dumping the Dixon problem on the Hilltop people as a punishment for not informing us properly about the strength of Negan’s group.

Would they do a thing like that? I couldn’t even blame them. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from an early age, it’s that punishment is essential to teach people a lesson. My father made sure I learned lots of them.   
I wish, they would have just beaten me up the way my old man used to do. Afterwards matters use to be settled for the time being. Getting deserted hurts much more than any belt or fist possibly could, and that pain won’t go away. It’s gonna stay with me forever. 

The door to my room opens and my heart leaps into my throat – only to be replaced by the merciless punch of disappointment. It’s just an elderly woman, who comes in with a bottle of water and a curious looking plastic bag. Maybe, if I play opossum, she’s just gonna leave again. Don’t want to see no one. None of the Hilltop people that is. But this ain’t _Make a wish,_ I guess. And even if it was – there are wishes, dreams, hopes that never come true. That’s another thing I’ve learned a long time ago. Guess the saying _‘Be careful what you wish for – it might come true’_ doesn’t apply to Dixons. Not one of my wishes ever came true. Not one. 

****

     “Oh good, you’re awake.”

A wide smile spread over Rose’s rosy cheeks as she approached the bed. She had seen her patient’s eyes being open the moment she had walked into the room, although he pretended to be asleep now. She couldn’t help grinning at that. In her time as a nurse she had seen countless patients do that, obviously hoping all the unpleasant treatments like taking the temperature or blood or giving an injection would be postponed and they were off the hook for the time being. But not one ever got away with it. Not one. 

     “I know, you’re awake there, hon. Can’t fool an old nurse like me.”

He still didn’t move.

     “I don’t wanna have to administer a rectal examination to prove my point.”

     “Ya wouldn’t dare”, came the gruff reply and had the smile on her face widen.

     “Don’t have to, now that I got your attention.”

An angry scowl hit her from under way too long bangs and she reached out to push one strand of hair out of her patient’s face. He flinched visibly and drew back. 

     “Paws off ma hair, lady.” 

     “The name is Rose”, she answered, her smile remaining. “And you shouldn’t hide behind all of that hair. Real shame for that pretty face.”

     “Ain’t pretty.”

She placed the items she had carried onto the nightstand and stood with her arms akimbo.

     “Well, excuse me, but where I come from you accept an older lady’s opinion. And if I tell you it’s pretty, it _is_ pretty. I’m a sucker for blue eyes.”

She winked at him. A frown flashed over his pale features.

     “Ya ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

     “Oh, yes, I think, I have.” She came to stand next to the bed and looked at him calmly. “They tell me your name is Daryl?”

     “Who’s _they_?”

     “Has your mother never taught you, that you shouldn’t answer a question with a question?” 

He turned away with a snort.

     “Ma mother taught me the difference between whiskey and vodka, ma brother where to best lift ‘em and ma dad the various ways of his appreciation, if I got caught.” 

He heard her suck in the air in shock and felt instantly sorry. This was neither the time, nor place to get caught up in bitterness about his shitty childhood. Especially not in front of a person, who had extended nothing but kindness so far.

He looked at Rose apologetically.

     “Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t mean ta …  Yeah, name’s Daryl.  And just so ya know, ya answered a question with a question yerself just now.”

     “Smart ass”, she couldn’t help remarking. Then she gave an appreciative nod and added:

     “Rick and your other friends.”

A sad air came to his face.

     “What about them?” he asked in a choked voice.

     “They are _they._ The ones who told me your name was Daryl.”

He turned his face away and thus she couldn’t see his jaw muscles clench. She reached for the small plastic bag on the nightstand and moved around the bed to the other side.

     “I’m gonna apply an IV now, so we can get some liquids into you. You are dehydrated.” She pointed at the bottle of water. “Drink as much as you can and I’ll fetch you some soup – and I want you to eat it.”

     “Yes, mom.”

     “Don’t you get fresh on me here.” She wiggled her finger chidingly. “Harlan will be here soon to take a look at you. He went to talk to Rick first.”

Daryl lifted his head and his eyes lit up visibly.

     “He’s still here?”

Rose’s eyebrows went up as she gave him a surprised look.

     “Of course, he is. They are all here. Where else would they be with you injured and Maggie sick?”

He shrugged. 

     “Let’s say, at least one of them accused me lately to be a massive pain in the ass. Said I was responsible for the death of someone we lost last night. And I guess, he’s even right. Thought the others might agree and … never mind. How’s Maggie?”

     “We don’t know yet. She’s getting antibiotics, but if you want details, you best ask the doctor. I’m not sure, I’m supposed to tell you …”

     “Oh, please, you afraid someone’s gonna sue ya, if ya spilled medical secrets? No shit, I’m sure lawyers got eaten first.” 

She couldn’t help giggling.

     “Who knows, even walkers may be picky.”

That remark had him smile, too, and she noticed that with a satisfied nod.

     “I was right.”

She straightened up after having applied the IV, gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and then headed for the door.

     “Right ‘bout what?”

At the door she turned once more and then said, before leaving.

     “It _is_ pretty.”

 

On the corridor she almost ran into Harlan and Rick, who approached the door in large strides. 

     “How is he?” 

Rick’s agitated inflection had her heart go out to him instantly.   
She had seen him last night – when Harlan had examined Daryl and the expression on the doctor’s face had depicted worry and pretty much the message _It doesn’t look good._ She had watched him when Harlan had told him to hold his friend down, while he was doing the stitches – undoubtably a painful procedure, especially since the patient had been delirious and was given no warning, no means to brace himself. She had seen the look on his face, when he had run outside, unable to be part in hurting Daryl, although he first of all should have seen worse, being the leader of a group of survivors in a world like this and an ex-cop, as they had told her.   
     She may have been old, but she wasn’t dead. She saw the signs. This wasn’t just a man worrying about a friend. There was more. A lot more. She wondered if the two of them even knew it, too. 

     “He’s awake at the moment. I applied an IV and I’m on my way to the kitchen now to get him some soup. He needs liquids and he needs to eat. Will you gimme a hand there? He doesn’t seem to be the most cooperative patient.” 

Rick raised one eyebrow, while he gave a knowing nod.

     “I bet.” 

She turned to carry out her task, but then stopped and looked at Rick once more.

     “I just want you to know – when I was trying to light the mood last night by joking a little, it wasn’t meant disrespectful and I did appreciate the seriousness of the situation. But after having been a nurse almost all of my life, it’s a matter of experience that even in a tight situation humor may help. Sometimes it does in fact lighten the worries of both the patient and the people close to them. And even if not – it’s always distraction. If only for a short moment and even if it’s not appreciated, as in your case. I just wanted you to know, that I know how you feel and I’m taking this seriously and will do anything I can to get him through this. And that goes for Maggie and her baby as well.”

Rick couldn’t help himself and reached out to give the motherly nurse a short hug. 

     “Thank you.”

     “Ah, fiddlesticks. Now go see your friend. He needs you there more than you think.”

Rick cast her a surprised look, but before he could even ask, she added:

     “He said something odd. Something about someone blaming him for the death of one of your group. And he thought perhaps you all agreed and left him behind.”

     “Oh, my God.” Rick ran one hand through his hair once more. “Carl.”

For a moment there it looked as though he was going to give an explanation, but then he reconsidered. What for? It was none of their business. That was something he was going to square with his son later. What happened in the group, stayed in the group. There was no time for talk anyway. He had to see Daryl. Now.  
Without a further word he made for the door and hurried inside without paying anymore attention to Rose or Harlan. 

Outside the doctor cast the elderly woman an appreciative smile. 

     “Well done, Rose”, he said kindly. “Those two are difficult characters, but you’ve always had a way with people. I should give you a raise.”

     “Pff, you’re not paying me at all.”

     “True, that’s why I can easily promise you a raise.” 

Her eyes narrowed in fake dismay, then she lifted her chin and said sternly:

     “Right now, doctor, humor is less than appropriate.”

He held her stern look for a moment, before they both started giggling. He bent down to place a kiss on her cheek.

     “I mean it, Rose. Thanks. Don’t know what I’d ever do without you.”

     “Probably treat shot wounds with magnets some more”, she teased. 

     “Don’t remind me. – I best go see my patient in there now.”

She placed a hand on his arm to hold him back.

     “Give them a few minutes to themselves.”

     “But …”

     “Harlan, he _knows._ Your patient’s not stupid and well aware of the fact that his condition is bad. And Rick knows that, too. Daryl’s awake now, but …Next time he passes out, he may not wake again. So give them that little time they still have, for Christ’s sake. In fact, you are not needed in there right now at all. I applied the IV, I left some water, I’m on my way to fetch some food, you got your blood sample and some tests to run and you already gave all the information you got to Rick. So what do you want in there anyway? Go fly a kite, Harlan.”

That said she sweepingly turned on her heels and walked down the corridor, leaving the doctor with his mouth gapped open.

     “Go fly a kite?” he called after her. “You know what, nurse, you are fired.”

     “I’m not working for you.”

     “Still. You are so fired.”

Inside they were both cracking up.

     “Fine!” she called back, before she rounded a corner. “The payment sucked anyway.”  



	4. Chapter 4

Rick silently closed the door behind him and walked up to the bed, cautious not to startle Daryl.   
The archer lay completely unmoving, eyes closed once more, his breath labored. There still was a thin layer of sweat covering his skin, while his face was as white as a sheet, save for the dark rings under his eyes.   
For a minute Rick just stood motionless next to Daryl’s bed, his heart racing, while he clenched his teeth. If it wasn’t for the rising and falling of the other man’s chest, one might have thought he was gone already. A thought that had Rick’s stomach cramp up painfully.  
Slowly he lowered himself to a chair by the bedside and for a moment watched the clear liquid from the IV flow into Daryl’s arm drop by drop, before he focused on the pale face before him once more. He wanted to touch Daryl so badly, hold his hand, run his fingers through his hair or the back of his hand over his cheek. Wanted to do _anything_ at all, yet dared not.   
He didn’t even know for sure how Daryl felt for him. He thought he did, thought he’d seen the signs clearly for the longest time, but maybe he had analyzed them completely wrong. Maybe he was going to make a complete fool of himself, if he revealed his feelings for Daryl. He found he didn’t care.  
May just as well be that he was right. That Daryl’s been silently telling him all this time _I love you_ , just like he had figured. Why the hell he chose to ignore that message and opted for hetero relationships, was beyond him. He wasn’t that kind of man. The prejudiced kind, the kind that cared in the least about other people’s narrow-minded _rules._ After all, the first woman after Lori he had dated had been married, the second one was black and now he was in love with a man. He sure wasn’t a man who went by the book.     
Eventually he placed one hand gently on Daryl’s wrist and ran his thumb softly over the archer’s arm.

       “Daryl?” he whispered to him.

At first he thought there would be no reaction, but slowly, as slowly as the liquid dripped into his body, the blue eyes opened bit by bit and lit up visibly when they came to rest on Rick’s face.

       “Hey.” Rick smiled gently. 

       “Hey yerself”, came the soft reply.

For a moment they just looked at each other. For the longest time they had been able to communicate through looks alone, had not needed words to tell the other what they were thinking and feeling. But things had changed. And other _things_ had come between them. People, doubts, misunderstandings, fears. In the process that invisable bond had been broken and replaced by silence and uncertainties. It was time to rebuild it. To bridge that gap between them and become that unit again that they used to be – for the sake of both of them. In the long run, they wouldn’t make it without the other, and they both knew it. 

Rick was just about to say something, when Daryl beat him to it.

       “Yer okay?”

Sky blue eyes widened in surprise. 

       “If _I_ was okay? You’re the one who got shot, Daryl.”

The archer shrugged and his face distorted instantly, when the movement caused fresh pain to his shoulder, which had Rick give his wrist another reassuring squeeze. After taking a deep breath Daryl replied:

       “’twas just a bullet. Guess you were hit way harder than I was.” 

Rick swallowed hard and felt he was unable to reply to that. After all that had happened, he was more than willing to take the entire blame unconditionally. To have the one person he hurt the most show understanding and compassion now, instead of casting the first stone, floored him and made him feel twice as bad. 

       “Just want ya ta know, Rick”, Daryl continued in a soft voice. “There was nothing ya coulda done.”

       “Yes, there was. Long before last night. I was way too arrogant and cocky, thought we were such an invincable bunch. I brought this upon us.”

Daryl slowly shook his head.

       “Was me who said we was gonna take care of the Negan problem, in return for food, medicine and …

       “Yeah,” a smile tugged at the corners of Rick’s mouth, “and _one of them cows._ And that was a good deal. Sounded like the perfect idea at the time.”

       “Still”, Daryl lowered his eyes, “started the whole crap. And then I left, ta go after that sonuvabitch Dwight. And Michonne …”

       “Daryl.” Rick leaned forward and tried to get the archer to look at him, which he did reluctantly. “Stop it. I heard what Carl said and he is wrong. You hear me? He’s wrong. Whether going after that Dwight guy was a good idea or not, is debatable, but it was your decision. Yours alone. And the others, Michonne, Glenn and Rosita, they made theirs. Morgan and I followed Carol, too, and if anything had happened to us, she wouldn’t be to blame.”

Daryl gave one of his tiny, barely visable nods. A movement that was easy to miss, yet had always been like a beacon to Rick. 

       “Ya find her?”

Rick shook his head.

       “Not yet. Morgan’s still looking. We found traces, but we were lacking a good tracker out there.”

With a small smile he winked at Daryl, who rolled his eyes in reply.

       “Man, haven’t ya still learned nothin’?”

       “Guess you gonna have to teach me a few more lessons.” 

A frown moved Daryl’s brows. Where they even still talking about tracking? He wanted so say something, wanted to just go on talking to Rick – after all, this was the longest conversation they had had in a long time – but all of a sudden his eyelids seemed to be too heavy to hold up and it was difficult to form another word.

       “Daryl?” 

Rick’s grip on the archer’s wrist increased, as he moved closer with a deeply concerned air on his face.

       “Tired, Rick”, came the slurred reply. “So tired.”

       “Stay with me”, the younger man urged with slight panic in his voice. “Rose is gonna be back any second with something to eat and as soon as Harlan has run those blood tests and found a suitable donor, you’ll get transfusions. You’ll be okay.”

       _“You gotta be!”_ he added silently.

Daryl forced his eyes back open and looked at Rick urgingly.

       “If I don’t make it …”

       “Shut up. Don’t wanna hear such talk. Told you, you’ll be okay.”

Shadow blue eyes narrowed sternly.

       “Look, Grimes, ya keep tellin’ me ta shut up, although ya promised ta finally listen. ‘s important.”

Rick pressed his lips together and fought against the lump in his throat, while he indicated Daryl to go on with a nod of his own. 

       “Got a soda pop sittin’ on ma bedside table at home. Denise risked her life for that fuckin’ thing. It’s for Tara. ‘twas very important ta her. Make sure Tara gets it.” 

       “You can give it to her yourself.”

       “Rick!”

There it was again. His name said in that warning “you are messing up, Grimes” inflection, Rick had learned to love – and listen to. It wasn’t voiced with the same vigor and strength as usually, but the inflection was the same and caused an irritating stinging sensation in Rick’s eyes. 

Daryl didn’t notice. His eyes had closed.

       “I promise.” Rick wasn’t sure if Daryl had heard him. The archer had passed out once more. Frantically and with shaking hands Rick searched for a pulse at the wrist he still clung to, and when he found it, it was barely palpable at all. 

A single tear slipped down Rick’s cheek. 

       “I love you”, he whispered to his unconscious friend, fear choking him that he may never get a chance to tell him, while he was awake. At least he had said it once, while Daryl was still _there._

The door falling shut behind him startled him the same moment.

 

When Abraham had opened his eyes that morning, he felt as though he hadn’t slept a minute and fact was, that he must have dozed off for a while there, but that was hardly a refreshing amount of sleep. After the night that lay behind them, he was surprised anyone could sleep at all, but the first one his eyes fell upon was Sasha, snuggled up beside him, still fast asleep. As he looked around the room, he saw Rosita in the far corner back to back with Eugene, and Aaron huddled in a large armchair, legs pulled beneath himself, equally still asleep.   
As upsetting and stressful the events had been, they had taken their toll on everyone and exhaustion had spread quickly after they had finally made it to the Hilltop. They had been offered food and several rooms to stay in, but without even talking about it, they had all ended up staying together in one of them, just like they had when they first arrived in Alexandria.   
Only Carl had somehow disappeared as soon as the gates of the Hilltop had closed behind them and no one had bothered looking for the boy. Everyone had to deal with what happened their own way and if Carl needed time to himself to sort things out, they best respected that. They all knew how close he had been to Michonne and losing her must have felt like losing a mother all over again. He hadn’t cried, when they had dug that grave for her and not when they had laid her to her final rest, so maybe he needed that time to himself to finally grief properly.

       _If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t have been out here! It’s all his fault!_

When the boy’s earlier words had suddenly echoed in his mind the other night, Abraham had looked up from the bowl of soup they had all been offered and looked at one of his comrads after the other. His eyes had lingered on Rosita when he finally spoke:

       “Do you agree with Carl? Is it Daryl’s fault?”

She had almost choked on a piece of bread, she had just put in her mouth and had to gulp hard, before she had looked at him with a frown.

       “What?”

       “Carl said it was Daryl’s fault Michonne, Glenn and you were even out there. He thinks Michonne’s death is on him. Do you agree?” 

She had cocked her head and given him her best annoyed “What the fuck, Abraham?” look.

       “Tell me something, Abraham, you being out there, along with the rest of us here, was that Rick’s fault?” 

The red-haired man waved the comment off.

       “Hell, no, he was just gonna take Maggie to the doctor’s. Not his fault those assholes were out there waiting for us. Was our decision to ride along after all.”

       “Aha”, she raised her hands, palms up, “there’s your answer. No one forced Michonne, Glenn and me to follow Daryl. And he didn’t ask for it, either. Our choice. Our chance. Our shitty call, I suppose.”

He couldn’t help grinning.

       “So, we’re gonna file that crap under ‘shit happens’ and agree that no one’s blaming Rick and Daryl, except probably Rick and Daryl?”

       “No”, Sasha cut in with a stern look on her face. “We will not just file that crap under ‘shit happens’. It _is_ somebody’s fault, just not Rick’s or Daryl’s. The bastard with the bat is responsible for Michonne’s death and probably the worst night we’ve all ever been through. Him and that dumb ass Gregory, who should have told us just how many men those Saviors got. He should have warned us. That makes two, who shouldn’t get away with this so easily.” 

There had been confirmative nods all around her, accompanied by concerned frowns. What chance did they stand against an enemy this powerful? A round dozen against a hundred, give or take a few? They wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating the Saviors again, but that didn’t shift chances in their favor. The first time had been sheer luck, because the moment of surprise had worked for them, but that wasn’t going to happen again. 

Not another word had been said after that. They had finished their meal, washed up and quietly retired to the assigned room. Sasha had made herself comfortable next to Abraham, Rosita close to Eugene – even that had taken place without a word being spoken, natural, in silent agreement. One by one they had fallen asleep, the last of them Aaron, who had sat in the armchair by himself, running his thumb tenderly over a pocket watch his boyfriend Eric had given to him on his birthday.   
He missed Eric. After the previous night, after fearing to never see his lover again, seeing everybody else pairing up and consulting one another, made it twice as hard to be alone.   
He wondered how Carl was coping; if he really wanted to be alone or just didn’t know who to turn to. Michonne was dead and the two people he was closest to save for  her – his dad and Daryl – were both pretty much the source of his distress, the reason for his fury. Aaron decided to go look for the boy first thing in the morning and offer a sympathetic ear.   
Was Rick with Daryl right now? He had hoped, he was. Just like he was hoping for Daryl to find his courage one of these days and finally tell Rick how he felt for him. Aaron wasn’t sure about Rick. The signals were contradictory, but Aaron had been gay his entire life and knew the signs when he saw them. He had secretly watched Daryl around Rick for quite a while now and those signs were definitely _there._ Probably no one else saw them and Daryl did his best to hide them, too, but every glance at Rick, the way he was protecting him by word and deed alike, the pain in his eyes whenever he had seen _her_ around him, no matter how hard he was trying to conceal it and the way he said “Rick”, as though that name was the most beautiful word in the world. All that was evidence enough.  
It hurt Aaron to watch Daryl stand back, the longing in his eyes almost palpable for everyone who cared to look closely enough, and suffer silently. He wondered, how much longer the archer was planning to just leave it this way; if he ever meant to speak up at all. 

       _What hurts the most, was being so close. And having so much to say. And watching you walk away. And never knowing, what could have been …_

The lyrics of that song had flashed through Aaron’s mind suddenly and had him think that they applied just perfectly. It was none of his business and he wasn’t close enough to either men to interfere, but in times like these, when each day could just as well be their last, holding back like that was almost a crime. A waste of time, that was way too little as it was.   
With these thoughts on his mind, Aaron had finally drifted off to sleep, the pocket watch tightly cluched in his hand. 

 

Abraham was sitting in the door of the RV, looking over the plaza, impatiently shuffling his feet. The Hilltop people had kindly shared their breakfast with them, but after that they had been left to their own devices. No one had informed them on Maggie’s and Daryl’s condition, no one had showed up to talk to them about any further plans. Jesus and Gregory were nowhere to be seen. Rick had disappeared, too, as well as Glenn, but it was commonly assumed, that they were with Daryl and Maggie. Where Carl was, he had no idea and the doctor’s trailer was empty when he had checked there ten minutes ago, Harlan being not available as well.   
The red-haired man kicked at a stone that lay nearby and cursed under his breath. He felt useless and all the unanswered questions left him on edge.  
If Negan was true to his word, if one could call it that, he would show up on their doorstep in less than a week. Maybe even earlier. They needed a plan. Needed to figure out how they were going to answer to his demands – if they were going to open the door, _their_ door, at all, when he came knocking.  
And he wanted to know how Maggie and Daryl were faring. Were they even still alive? Was that the reason people were avoiding them and neither Rick, nor Glenn had showed up yet? Had they lost two more of their group and no one had the balls to tell them?   
Determinedly Abraham got up and headed towards the Barrington House. He was gonna find someone, anyone, who could give him some answers. He was done waiting. 

The plan sounded easy and in a town with a few dozen inhabitants, one would have expected to meet at least one of them walking through the main building of the town. Yet Abraham had roamed various corridors without running into anyone at all. He had opened quite a few doors by random, but again, hadn’t come across anybody, which had his annoyance increase by the minute.   
Just when he opened yet another door, the words “I love you” came to his ears and he knew, he was intruding. He shouldn’t be there. Should retreat and silently close that door again, but the voice was familiar and he needed to talk to someone, _now._ So he threw all caution to the wind and entered nevertheless, closing the door behind him. 

       “Sorry, to gatecrash like that”, he apologized instantly, while two sets of eyes turned his way. 

Simultaneously Glenn and Maggie started smiling.

       “No sweat. Come on in. Haven’t seen anyone since last night, so fill us in – what’s going on?”

Abraham shrugged his shoulders.

       “Your guess is as good as mine. Rick’s disappeared, don’t know how Daryl is, haven’t seen Gregory or Jesus and we need a plan. That Negan ass is gonna show up in Alexandria soon, so we can’t stay in this lovely resort forever.” He walked up to the bedside and looked down at Maggie’s still pale face. “How are you feeling, gal?” 

       “Better.” She gave him a brave smile. “I get antibiotics, had something to eat and the cramps have stopped.”

       “So the li’l pancake is okay?” 

Again smiles spread over Glenn’s and Maggie’s faces.

       “For now, yes.”

       “Glad to hear that.” Abraham gave Glenn’s shoulder a hearty slap. “You guys know where Rick is?” 

Glenn shook his head.

       “No. Harlan was here earlier and said, Rick was with Daryl, but we wouldn’t know just where that is.”

       “Did he say how Daryl is?”

Glenn’s face became a stony façade.  
        
       “Not too good. He’s lost a lot of blood and is pretty weak, he said. Tries to figure out his bloodtype, so he can go look for someone, who can donate for a transfusion. Haven’t heard anymore yet.”

       “Damn. Dunno about you, but I’m getting royally pissed with that Negan prick and all the assholes he’s got working for him.”

       “According to him, that would include us now”, Maggie cut in weakly.

       “Think again”, Abraham replied gruffly. “Last dude I answered to happened to be the President of the United States. So unless said prick was elected lately, I ain’t working for no one.” 

Glenn looked at him with a concerned frown.

       “You saw how many they are. We don’t stand a chance.”

       “Not alone, that’s true. Ever heard the term ‘uniting the forces’?” 

Glenn’s confusion was palpable, so Abraham continued without waiting for an answer.

       “We ain’t got enough manpower in Alexandria, fact. Same goes for Hilltop. But together, we stand stronger already. And Jesus said, they were doing business with other communities. Plural. There are others. And all of them are stupid enough to bow to that asshole and give him whatever he wants. But what if we worked together? All of us. All communities. We should unite, build an army and do some serious ass kicking, to square things once and for all with the Saviors.”

       “Sounds good”, Maggie replied weakly, “but it sounds way too easy.” 

       “Won’t be easy, but I for one can’t wait to give it a go after what they did to Michonne. We owe it to her and everyone who was killed before her. Gotta make sure it won’t happening again.”

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and then turned to head to the door. 

       “Gonna go find Rick.”

That said he was out of the room and left Maggie and Glenn without giving them another look.


	5. Chapter 5

        “I love you.”

Rose couldn’t help hearing those words, despite of them being merely whispered to her unconscious patient. She hadn’t meant to eavesdropped, but her entering the room had obviously gone unnoticed and those words had been said, without Rick even realizing he wasn’t alone with Daryl any longer. The hand, that a moment before had frantically searched for a pulse in the archer’s wrist, had slipped down and was now holding his hand. 

A draft from the window that stood ajar, caught the door and had it fall shut behind the nurse, the thud having Rick jump. 

        “I’m sorry”, Rose said and she meant it, too. 

The second he saw her, he blushed violently and pulled back his hand instantly, which had her curse secretly. So she’d been right. There was more. A lot more. But it was obviously still supposed to be a secret. Maybe those two hadn’t even had the chance to talk, _really_ talk to each other yet. Maybe they were still both beating around the bush, while time may be running out. And now she had destroyed one of the few tender moments those two may ever share. 

She walked over to the bedside table and place a tray with two bowls of soup there, before she came to stand next to Rick. Gently she placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded over to the tray.

        “You should have something to eat, too.”

He didn’t even look over to the bedside table. Maybe he didn’t even hear, what she had said.

        “Did you … I mean, when you came in …”

        “I heard you, yes”, she said softly, “but that’s not important. Unfortunately those words weren’t for me, right?” 

She winked at him and Rick couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that flashed over his face.

        “Humor again, huh?”

        “Does it work?”

        “Depends.” His inflection sounded slightly agitated and she couldn’t help sighing.

        “If it’s supposed to remain a secret, it’s safe with me”, she assured him and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I just hope, _he_ knows.”

Rick turned his head and let his eyes rest on Daryl’s unmoving face.

        “Not yet”, he replied softly after a moment. 

        “Well, _you_ know. That’s a start.”

Before Rick had a chance to answer to that or even think about her words further, the door opened again and Harlan rushed in. 

        “How is he?” he said breathless, as though he had run the entire way up here. And maybe he had. 

        “Unconscious again”, Rose replied.

        “I got it”, Harlan said in between two long breaths. “A positive. His bloodtype is A positive. Now we just need to find a suitable donor to …”

Rick jumped to his feet.

        “You got him! _I’m_ A positive.”

        “You sure?” 

        “100 percent. No doubt about it.”

All the sudden he heard Daryl’s voice echo in his mind. Words the archer had said a long time ago and in another context, but they seemed to apply perfectly now.

        “You want blood, I get it. Take it from me, man”, Rick softly muttered to himself, repeating Daryl’s words, while a smile spread over his face. Then he turned to Daryl, leaned down to him and whispered in his ear: “I’m returning the favor today.” 

Behind his back a frown appeared on Harlan’s face and he was just about to say something, when Rose’s elbow to his side had him turn to the nurse instead.

        “What …?”

        “Shut up, Harlan. You don’t need to hear everything and you don’t need to know everything, either. Don’t be so nosy. Best get that transfusion ready, don’t you think?” 

The doctor’s mouth opened and closed a few times in the perfect imitation of a fish, but in the end he decided that another debate with the nurse was futile. She was going to have the final say anyhow. And she was right, at least as far as the transfusion was concerned. He walked over to his patient and sat down on the edge of the bed to check his pulse and temperature, while he gave Rick a probing glance.

        “Eat that soup, please”, he addressed him. “If you gonna give blood – and we are not talking about few drops – you need your strength.”

To his surprise, Rick didn’t protest or argue in the least. With a silent nod he took the bowl instantly and started eating. 

        “ _Miracles do happen”,_ the doctor thought with a smile. 

Fifteen minutes later a long plastic tube was attached to Rick’s right, as well as Daryl’s left arm and the first dose of blood was tranferred from one to the other. Rick was strangly reminded of how he had sat next to Carl’s bed back at Hershel’s farm, doing the exact same thing – giving his blood to save someone he loved. 

        “This is going to take a while”, Harlan said, while closing his doctor’s bag. “I’ll go check on Maggie now and Rose has other patients to see to. Lean back and try to relax, Rick. We’ll be back soon.” He placed a walkie takie on the nightstand.   
“Just in case. If anything happens and you need help, give us a holler.” 

Rick gave a confirmative nod and watched Harlan head for the door. Rose set out to follow him, but hesitated for a moment as though she meant to say anything. But then she reconsidered, just gave him and Daryl a long look, before following Harlan outside.

        “What was that all about?” Rick muttered to himself, before settling back and trying to get somewhat comfortable in the chair he was sitting in. 

It was totally quiet, save for Daryl’s soft and shallow breathing. There were no voices or other sounds from outside, which had Rick shift on his chair uneasily. 

_ “The silence before the storm”,  _ he couldn’t help thinking.

He leaned forward and focussed on Daryl’s pale and unmoving features. By common standards the archer may not have passed as overly good looking, but Rick had learned to love his face. An immense peace washed over him, each time he saw it. It meant safety, protection, support, friendship. And love. The thought to spend a day of his life without looking into this face was unbearable. Why had he been such an incredible fool? 

        “I need you. Hang on, Daryl. Please.”

He watched the dark red liquid flow into Daryl’s vein, watched the soft rising and falling of his chest and how the draft from the window moved one or the other strand of the dark hair occasionally. Rick’s eyelids grew heavy. It was peaceful around him, quiet, and slowly all worries seemed to retreat further and further into a dark corner of his mind.    
Negan – a concern of the future. Michonne – a memory of the past. Daryl – everything that mattered in the present, right here and now.    
When did he last sleep properly? The night before this horrible day had started? How long ago was that? It felt like a lifetime and Rick didn’t even care to figure it out, to ponder over it at all. One thing was for sure – he had woken up next to the wrong person and each time that thought haunted him, he felt guilty. Guilty for leading Michonne to believe he truly loved her, something he may even have deluded himself with for a while. And guilty for hurting Daryl the way he had, for pushing him away, simply because he had been a coward.    
No sense in dwelling on this any longer. If any good came out of the previous night, than it was him realizing, whom he truly loved. And he wasn’t going to make the mistake again to deny his feelings. Now he only needed a chance to tell Daryl, to show him, to make it up to him.    
Rick’s sight grew dim and his head was too heavy to hold upright any longer. Sleep. Just for a while.    
Before he knew what he was doing, he had kicked off his shoes and gently and carefully climbed onto the bed. Slowly he let himself sink back and stretched out next to Daryl, giving a content sigh when he felt his cramped up muscles relax. Cautiously he made sure the tube was still in the right position for the blood to flow unhindered, before he reached over and pulled the blanket, Daryl was covered with, a little higher. 

A smile played around his lips for a moment. He could almost hear what the archer would have to say to that.

        _“Ain’t no kid ya gotta pamper and tuck in, Grimes. Cut it out.”_

For a moment he thought about slipping under the blanket, too, but reconsidered quickly. Much that he would have liked to just snuggle up to Daryl, there was just no way he could do a thing like that before he even had a talk with him.    
Whenever they had been out on the road – on runs that lasted overnight or after another one of their safe havens had gone up in flames – the two of them used to sleep back to back, Rick with his gun in reach, while Daryl had kept his crossbow close at all times. They had had each other’s back, literally, and Rick remembered those times with a pang of regret. Things had been easier back then. In a way they had been better. He missed nights like that, when he had slept peacefully despite of any possible threat out there, because the solid warmth to his back had made him feel safe and comfortable.    
For a moment he considered moving closer to Daryl. Close enough to touch, if only by laying shoulder to shoulder, but in the end he dared not.

Alexandria had changed so many things. Not all of them for the better. Out there, being close had been so natural to them. When had that changed? When more space, a house with a room for each of them, places to retreat to, had given them the freedom and luxury of … of what? Solitude?    
He remembered Carol’s delighted cheering when they had first arrived at the prison and she was thrilled, that they had so much space all of a sudden. After they had been driven off Hershel’s farm and had been forced to be on the run, on a constant move forward, together all the time, day and night, week by week, month after month, the prison first appeared like Heaven. Maggie and Glenn had welcomed the privacy of their own cell together and probably most of the others didn’t mind that, either. Rick remembered how Daryl had cast him a glance, then had taken a look at the cells and announced:

        _“I ain’t sleeping in no cage.”_

And then he had moved his gear up to the perch, opted to sleep on the landing of the second floor and for the first time in months Rick had felt – alone. Deserted. Deprived of something very valuable. 

 

_ Rick’s POV: _

I want it back. If I can never get anymore from you, maybe because I read the signs wrong in the first place or maybe because my actions destroyed everything that could have been, please Daryl, at least let us be close again. Brothers. The way we used to be.    
Would you mind, if I moved closer to you now? Would you even notice? All patient’s beds around here are queen or king size, probably because they lack the rails and want to make sure, patients don’t fall out and hurt themselves further. There is room enough for both of us. Just let me be with you for as long as possible.    
I know, I should have more faith, but … God and I don’t seem to get along too well lately. And I cannot even blame Him for not appreciating Rick Grimes too much these days. I keep asking people the three questions, keep asking them how many people they’ve killed, as though the answer was any indication what kind of person they were. By now I’ve killed more of the living than I can count and if asked for the reasons, I’d probably say “Because they deserved no better”. Fact is, I wouldn’t pass my own test. Not any longer. In the beginning I was the one, who said “we don’t kill the living”. These days I do it too quickly, too often, with way too little regret. And He knows. I even slaughtered several people in a church – the Lord’s house, as Gabriel reminded us. I wouldn’t appreciate it in the least, if anyone did anything like that in my house – if I still had one. So I couldn’t even blame Him, if he thought I deserved punishment, deserved being put into my place to learn some humbleness and decency.    
But Daryl – maybe He thinks Daryl deserves better. A place in another world, where he would be at peace and loved. A place with no fear and hunger, no pain and violence. Anything _this_ world is not. And He may have watched me long enough to have his doubts, that I can still do right by Daryl, that I can keep my promise to do better and make it up to him. He may consider, that all the good He thinks Daryl deserves is unlikely to ever be provided by me.    
Any second now He may decide to take Daryl, free him of this gruesome world, of _me_ , and sentence me to solitude, to a life without him, to be left behind, alone in all this.    
I just want to be here with him for as long as only possible. Lie by his side as long as he is still breathing, his heart is still beating, he is still _here._ I didn’t _know_ how I felt for him, when we were still out there on the road. Didn’t realize how blessed I was to have this man by my side, and now I may never have the chance to share another peaceful moment with him, side by side. Maybe this one right now and the memory of it will have to last for a lifetime.   
I know, it’s dangerous to fall asleep next to him. What if he dies? What if he turns and no one is there to … I don’t even care. Whatever is gonna happen to me, right now I don’t care. I just need to be with him. And if he takes me with him, all the better. I don’t know, if I can stand this world without him anyway. Don’t know, if I even wanna try.    
Maybe I best lock the door, to make sure we can’t get out to hurt anyone else, in case _it_ happened. Carl is out there and the rest of my family. Can’t risk being responsible for anone else to get hurt. Gotta get up and lock the door.    
Tired. Can’t move. Don’t want to move. _Get up!_ Can’t. Hear Daryl’s soft breathing. It’s so soothing. He’s still here. _Hang on, Daryl. I promise to do better. I promise._ Door. Need to lock … Head is so heavy. Entire body is too heavy. The tube is still attached anyway. Can’t. Just a little nap. Will be okay. _Daryl? Daryl …_

*********

 

A second later Rick was fast asleep. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and thus did not wake when a short while later the door opened and someone marched in. 

        “Rick, we need to ta…”

Jesus stopped in midsentence and his eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Harlan, who had followed right behind him, almost ran into him and gave a surprised grunt, when Jesus seemed to be rooted to the spot suddenly. 

        “What …?” he started, but then fell silent as well, a surprised frown on his face as he looked at Rick and Daryl.

        “I swear to God”, Jesus remarked, “I wanna know his secret. Each time I walk in on that guy, he’s in bed with someone else.” 

The next second a smack up the side of his head had him fall quiet and cast an indignant look at Rose, who strode past them.

        “Get your mind out of the gutter, Paul.”

He gave her an innocent smile.

        “Whose mind is in the gutter? I’m deeply envious here.” 

She gave him a probing glance and then turned to their patients, slightly shaking her head. Maybe he wasn’t even joking. 

        “And don’t call me Paul. Please. Told you that a hundred times already.”

She straightened up and raised her eyebrows.

        “Your parents named you Paul, so I will call you just that. There’s only one person by the name of Jesus known to me and it’s not you. Don’t even know why people think you look like him. No one who’s still alive has ever seen him. Who knows, he may have been a good-looking guy.” 

Harlan started chuckling when he saw Jesus’ mouth gap open and gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder. 

        “That was a good one. You gotta hand it to her.” 

        “Yeah, had a clown for breakfast obviously.” He tried to look insulted, but there was a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I gotta talk to Rick”, he then changed the subject, “can you wake him?”

        “I can”, she replied, “but I most certainly won’t.” Before he even had a chance to protest, she added: “If someone does not wake despite of the commotion you guys are causing in here again, he must be dead tired. It was a rough night for him and his group and they need sleep. Him first of all.”

        “But he’s the leader of that group.”

        “That is why, darling”, she replied sirupy. “If you wanna discuss urgent matters with him, you don’t want him to doze off every other sentence.”    
        “Although I couldn’t blame him”, she added, muttering to herself.  

        “I heard that”, Paul remarked in fake dismay. “Look, they tell me the entire group was lured into one of Negan’s traps and one of them was killed last night.  Lucille …” Rose grew pale.  “Allegedly Negan has made the same _deal_ with Alexandria as he did with us, yet Alexandria is not even warned yet. They don’t _know_ what’s coming their way and …”

        “And”, she placed a hand over his mouth, when his voice started to grow loud in agitation, “you waking Rick right now, isn’t gonna help anyone. I doubt, Negan is gonna show up at Alexandria’s door any second now, so this can wait an hour or two longer. End of story. The man is exhausted and he’s donating blood – and he’s about to get bothered with _urgent matters._ ” She could hardly help rolling her eyes. “He needs his strength.” 

Jesus opened his mouth to protest once more, but her warningly raised finger had him fall quiet.

        “One more word and I swear, I’m gonna cut off your hair while you’re sleeping first chance I get.” 

        “And while you’re at it”, Harlan added with a soft chuckle, “cut Daryl’s, too.” 

Paul gave his shoulder a hearty slap and said:

        “Unlike you, _I_ know when to best take the lady seriously and retreat. I’m out of here. _You_ gotta work with her.”

That said, he disappeared surprisingly quick out of the door, with the promise – or was it a threat – to come back later. 

Shaking his head to himself, Harlan approached the bed to check on his patients, starting with Daryl. He looked at the shoulder wound, checked the archer’s pulse and temperature and then walked around the bed to check on Rick as well.    
The elderly nurse stood behind him and watched him quietly, until he got up with a nod.

        “How are they?”

        “Rick’s just exhausted and we shouldn’t have the transfusions last too long. From the looks of it, they hadn’t had too much to eat over in Alexandria lately and they could all use a good dose of nutrition. Can’t risk weakening Rick too much.”

        “But Daryl …”

He turned around to her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. 

        “We will do everything we can for him, but I can’t risk the health of anyone else to save him come hell or high water.” He saw her give an understanding nod, however reluctant. “For now, it’s been enough.”

Gently and quietly in order not to wake his patients, Harlan removed the tube and then turned to Rose once more. 

        “No use in staying here at the moment. Daryl’s not out of the woods just yet, but I don’t think there’s an acute danger he might …” He saw the reaction in her eyes and knew, he didn’t have to end the sentence. “Anyway, I’d like you to go take a break now. You’ve been up on your feet half of the night.”

        “So have you.”

He shrugged.

        “Got younger feet, Rose.”

        “And a bigger mouth”, she shot back, having him raise his hands defensively.

Before he even had a chance to apologize, she had turned on her heels and headed out of the room – grinning to herself, unseen to him. When the door had fallen shut behind her, Harlan once more shook his head to himself.

        “Makes you wonder at times which is worse – the walkers or women like Rose Mitchell”, he muttered to himself, before leaving the room as well. “Probably the latter – can’t even shoot them.” That thought brought a grin to his face. He knew he didn’t really mean it.

 

Rosita and Eugene sat back to back on the ground in the shadow of the RV, doozing, while Sasha kept impatiently walking up and down in front of them. 

        “If you keep that up, there’s gonna be a ditch there soon”, Rosita remarked without even opening her eyes.

        “How much longer are we just gonna sit here?” Sasha retorted angrily. “We don’t know how Maggie and Daryl are, Gregory hasn’t even had the decency to show up at all yet and everybody else just kinda disappeared. Where the hell is Rick? Why is Abraham not coming back? What’s going on here?”

        “Calm down, will ya?” Rosita reluctantly opened one eye and squinted at her. “No news is good news, you know that. If anything had happened to Daryl or Maggie, they would have told us.”

Sasha stopped her pacing and cast her a scowl.

        “That still does not explain, where Rick and Abraham are.”

        “Pfff.” Rosita’s eye closed again and she leaned her head back against Eugene’s. “One thing you obviously still gotta learn – some men don’t give a damn about what the little lady at their side wants. It’s all about them, always. Abe is one of them, so get used to it. And Rick … he’s probably got better things to do than play the messenger for us out here. So, sit down already.”  

        “Sure as hell won’t.”

That said Sasha took off toward the Barrington House with long, angry strides, while Eugene and Rosita opened their eyes shortly to look after her.

        “Anyone ever told you, that you’ve got an interesting way with people?” Eugene asked, before he yawned and then closed his eyes once more. 

        “That makes two of us.” She smiled to herself. “Looks like we’re a pretty good match.” 

His eyes flew open, accompanied by a surprised air on his face. But he didn’t move and he didn’t reply, either. 

 

When Abraham left Maggie’s room and stepped into the corridor, he was determined to go look for Rick – again – but he still did not have a clue where to start looking at all. He had already roamed several rooms and corridors, before he had ended up with Maggie and Glenn by sheer luck, and he did not feel like searching the entire house over again. There had got to be someone, who knew where to find Rick.    
        There were footsteps on the stairs at the end of the corridor as somebody was obviously headed downstairs, and Abraham hurried to follow that person. He wanted some answers and he wanted them now.    
When he reached the top of the staircase, he saw Jesus on the landing and quickly called out to him:

        “Jesus!”

He saw the head of the man turn first his way and then towards the entrance hall, where a female voice had called him contemporaneously with Abraham. 

        “Neat,” Jesus commented drily. “Did you practice long for that?” 

While Abraham hurried down the stairs, he saw Sasha cross through the hall and approach Jesus with large, determined strides. A moment later they both stood in front of him and again said simultaneously:

        “We need to talk to Rick.” 

This time Jesus couldn’t help laughing, but he composed himself quickly, when he saw the dark scowls in front of him. Instead of dropping another remark about the in sync talking, he just said:

        “Get in line. I need to talk to Rick. Gregory needs to talk to Rick. Hell, half of the town needs to talk to Rick, but right now he is not to be disturbed – doctor’s orders.” 

Frowns moved the two faces looking at him.

        “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sasha asked.

        “Just what I said – he is not to be disturbed. He’s exhausted and he’s been giving a blood transfusion to Daryl and needs some rest. And I strongly suggest you don’t try to sneak in behind Rose’s back, if you wanna live.”

        “Rose?”  
          
        “ _Nurse_ Rose. She’s the dragon of this dungeon and if her patients’ wellbeing is endangered, she’s on the warpath. So don’t even think about it.”

Abraham’s eyes narrowed.

        “Negan is gonna show up in Alexandria any day now and we need a plan. And we want some answers from Gregory and you, as a matter of fact. Just why the hell didn’t you warn us about the Saviors? Why didn’t you tell us how many they actually were?”

He looked as though he was gonna punch the other’s nose any second now, having Jesus take a precautious step back.

        “Because we didn’t _know._ Whenever they showed up here, it was only a small number of them – a dozen, maybe twenty, never more. And that outpost you attacked was the only building we knew of and we never saw any more of them over there, either. We had no way of knowing they were all over the place and as many as they obviously are. Otherwise we would have told you. It was in our best interest as well for them to be eliminated, so sending you into a deathtrap deliberately would have been pretty senseless.”

Abraham breathed in deep and ran both of his hands over his short red hair.

        “Still, we need a plan. A strategy. Can’t just let them have their way and blackmail every town in the area.”

Jesus eyebrows rose and he cocked his head answering:

        “Don’t tell me you wanna stand up to them _again_. Are you guys suicidal or something?”

This time it was Sasha, who took a step closer to him.  
          
        “No”, she said darkly, “we are not. And this is precisely why we need a plan. You heard the man. We cannot allow those assholes to just take whatever they want, but alone, we don’t stand a chance against them.”

        “That is why we need a strategy, smart aleck”, Abraham added. “And that yesterday at best, because we ain’t got all week. At least some of us need to head back to Alexandria and have them warned ASAP. Got it?”  

Jesus raised his hands defensively and nodded.

        “I got it. Just can’t tell you anything other than five minutes ago – if you wanna talk to Rick, you gotta wait till Rose and Harlan give their okay. An hour or two isn’t gonna make that big of a difference. I doubt, though, that Rick is gonna be of much help. He probably won’t go back to Alexandria with you anytime soon.”

        “What the hell are you talking about?”

        “Daryl. Harlan says, he isn’t doing so hot and if he’s to make it at all, he will need more than one bloodtransfusion. So Rick needs to stay.”

        “You can’t be serious”, Sasha cut in. “We need him in Alexandria.”

        “Guys”, Jesus replied calmly. “I get that he’s the leader of your little group there and you trust him, but come on, people, you can’t rely on one man alone. If anything was to happen to him, you still got be able to function. Don’t tell me, you gonna be a bunch of headless chicken as soon as one man isn’t telling you what to do any longer. How about a strategy there? Who’s second in command, so to speak?

Abraham and Sasha exchanged a look, then she answered:  
          
        “Daryl, I guess.”

        “Oh, brother”, Jesus shook his head. “You guys are screwed.” 


	6. Chapter 6

When Rick came back around, he had no idea how long he’d been asleep. A look outside showed that the sun hadn’t moved too much, so it may have been an hour, maybe two. No more. Still he felt somewhat rested and with a deep, content sigh he stretched his legs. Then he turned his head and looked at the man lying by his side.  
       Daryl lay unusual still, his whole body slack in a way Rick had never seen it before. Even in his sleep, Daryl had always appeared to be alert, one eye and ear on stand-by as though he was used to sleep lightly, able to react to any possible attack at any time.   
The smile that had spread over Rick’s face when he had looked over to him, faded instantly and he reached over with a shaking hand, gently placing it on Daryl’s chest to check for a pulse, breathing, anything. A second later he let out his breath in a deep, relieved sigh, when he felt the steady, however somewhat weak heartbeat beneath his palm. But it was _there_ , which was all that mattered right now.   
The smile returned. He couldn’t help it. Although they had spent countless nights side by side, waking had never been a gentle or slow matter. Usually they’d been woken by the warning of the assigned sentry when walkers had approached, or people with unknown intentions, Judith’s crying or hungry wild animals attacking.  
This was the very first time Rick had woken up next to Daryl, while the archer was still asleep – no threat urging them to move instantly, no one else around them. It was just the two of them. He had never taken the time, had never _had_ the time to look at his friend this closely, taking in every detail of his face as though he meant to draw a picture later from memory.   
Sometimes he wished, he had that skill. They had already lost so many loved ones, so many faces they would never see again and one day, they would barely even remember what they looked like. Lori, Shane, Michonne and all the others would be no more than faded memories. It pained him, that little Judith would never even know what her mother looked like, since the only remaining picture of her was lost a long time ago.

_     “And if … when … “ _

Rick couldn’t even bring himself to think it, but he wanted Judith to know what the man looked like, who saved her life. First man in her life, who held her, fed her and soothed her – something _he_ as her father should have done, but he had been busy _sorting things out._

       _“Since I can’t draw, you just have to stay alive”,_ he silently communicated with Daryl. _“Think you could do that for me?”_

There was no reaction, no movement, but Rick’s smile remained. The heartbeat was there, a steady tapping against his palm, Daryl’s skin warm to his touch and the sound of his soft breathing soothing Rick’s concerns. 

       _“I could get used to this.”_

He looked at his hand, that lay flat on Daryl’s chest and it felt good – it felt _right._ Never before had he felt the urge to touch another man, gently, tenderly, but right now he did. He wanted to run his hand through Daryl’s unruly hair, wanted to wrap his arms around him, hold his hand, move even closer and kiss those slightly parted lips that looked so soft. So promising. So delicious. So … 

       _“Maybe just a peck. He wouldn’t even know.”_

Instantly he felt a pang of conscience.

       _“Have you lost the rest of your mind, Grimes? Can’t do a thing like that. No way you are going to_ steal _that precious first kiss. That should be something very special, something we both want, or it’s not gonna happen at all.”_

While he was still berating himself, Daryl’s eyelids suddenly fluttered and before Rick even had time to react, the blue eyes opened and looked straight into his face.   
For a moment they just looked at each other. Rick’s heart was in his mouth and he was at a total loss for words. There was so much he wanted to say, but he had no idea how. Maybe this wasn’t even the right moment to say anything at all. Maybe he had better wait till Daryl was better, yet in the same second that painful and disturbing feeling invaded him once more that he may be waiting for a day that would never come. He didn’t even realize his hand still lay on Daryl’s chest until he saw a frown spread over the older man’s face.

      “What’s goin’ on?”

It took Rick a second to even understand what Daryl was aiming at, but then he pulled back as though he’d been electrified. 

       “Sorry about that. Was just checking …” he fell silent and swallowed against the lump in his throat.

       “If I was still alive?”

Rick nodded hesitatingly and was about to reply, when Daryl seemed to realize, that he didn’t just wake up to Rick touching him, but to Rick being there in bed with him as well. His eyes narrowed.

       “Whadda ya doin’ in ma bed, man? Ya wanna send ma reputation straight ta hell or what?” 

Rick looked at him with big eyes, not knowing what to make of this. Was he serious or was he kidding? It was hard to tell and Rick had the hardest time thinking straight as it was.   
He wanted to tell Daryl how he felt, wanted them to spend each and every moment they still had together, no matter how many there were. But he had no idea what to say, how to start and maybe he’d been wrong all along and misread the signs completely. What if Daryl was straight? What if he saw no more than a friend in him?   
Taking into consideration what kind of family Daryl came from and how he was raised, Rick seriously doubted that tolerance was anything the Dixons valued, so a love relationship between two men may have been the most despicable thing imaginable to Daryl. Speaking up could destroy their friendship, drive Daryl away from him, have him lose all respect and affection. Maybe Rick had better kept his mouth shut, but then it would remain a secret for all times. Worse than losing someone over honest and deep emotions, was keeping them hidden, only to one day find out they were reciprocated all the time, leaving both of them looking back on years, maybe a lifetime, they could have had together, and wasted. 

Still, blurting things right out was probably the worst way to go about this. A more subtle approach could at least save him from a broken nose, in case he’d been wrong about Daryl’s feeling for him. This was awkward, as well as confusing and made him extremely nervous, so he opted for taking it one step at a time, starting with a little light conversation.

“Mine went to hell ages ago. Soon as it’s thoroughly ruined, life’s so much easier.”  

He saw the ghost of a smile on Daryl’s face and let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

       “True”, the archer just commented, but the questioning look in his eyes remained. 

       “You had a transfusion”, Rick started explaining, when he realized that the tube had been removed while he’d been asleep. 

His eyes grew large. Someone was in here. Someone saw them together.

       _“Doing what, Grimes? Taking a nap. Get a grip, for crying out loud!”_

       “Transfusion?”

       “Yeah, you lost a lot of blood and they don’t have reserves. We got the same blood type, so I was a suitable donor for a transfusion. Sorry, if I crowded you there.”

       “Do I look as if I felt crowded?”

Rick cocked his head, while a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

       “Quite frankly, you look like shit”, he teased, thinking about Rose’s theory that humor sometimes was the best approach.

       “Yeah?” Daryl replied gruffly. “Whadda ya expect, now that I got Grimes blood in me?”

Rick couldn’t help laughing.

       “Good one.” 

Daryl just looked at him deadpan, apparently calm on the outside, but his thoughts and emotions were in a turmoil.   
God, he had missed that smile, missed to hear Rick laugh, missed _Rick_. And now he was here with him, so close, touched him just a moment ago in a way he never had before – and would probably never again. This was as close as he would ever get to his greatest wish, his deepest desire and he tried to hold on to that moment for as long as he only could. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still feel Rick’s warm hand on his chest, the sensation leaving a tingly feeling on his skin that had him shiver. It took all of Daryl’s willpower to not move, when all he really wanted to do was reach out and pull Rick into his arms, hug him close and kiss him like there was no tomorrow. And maybe there wasn’t.   
He was no fool. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that his constitution left much to be desired, as Eugene would have put it. His entire body still felt sore and too heavy to move and he was dizzy and tired, but he wanted to stay awake more than anything. Wanted to be right here in this room, in this bed, with Rick beside him. Just the two of them, for as long as only possibe.

He had stared a moment too long and Rick’s smile crumbled and made room for a worried frown.

       “You feel okay?” 

       “’bout as good as I look.”

The smile widened again, as Rick tried to revive their friendly bantering.

       “In that case, I best put you out of your misery.”

The moment he had said those words, he saw the reaction in Daryl’s eyes and the memory of last night’s events hit him like a bolt. The smile dropped off his face and cursing under his breath, Rick let himself drop onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He had ruined this wonderful moment. Had unintenionally used words that came too close to what Negan had said to Maggie last night, before … For just a while there, Rick had totally blinded out what had happened only hours ago, had drowned in the blue eyes before him and spoken faster than his distracted mind was able to keep up.   
Now it was back. All of it. The fear and guilt and shame. Michonne’s death. Negan’s threat. Maggie’s illness. Daryl’s injury. All the worries he had been able to push aside for just this one wonderful moment. Why couldn’t it last?

       “I’m really sorry”, Daryl’s soft voice pulled him out of this thoughts.

       “About what?” Rick answered just as softly, while he kept staring at the ceiling.

       “Michonne. I wish there’d been something I could do.”

Rick’s jaw muscles clenched visibly and he seemed to fight for his composure, seemed to fight a silent inner battle. 

       _Rick: “I need to tell him. He’s got to know.”_

_        Daryl: “I shoulda done something. Anything. Shoulda tried. He loved her. He coulda been happy with her. Shoulda been me.”  _

_        Rick: “Next time it could be him. Or me. And he will never know, if I don’t tell him. But I don’t want to lose him. What if he doesn’t understand? What if he doesn’t appreciate how I feel for him?” _

_        Daryl: “Yer not alone, Rick. I wish I could tell ya. Wish I could let ya know just how much I love ya. The smile is gone again, 'cause she's dead, 'cause each time ya think of her now, it makes ya sad. But it ain't me, who could bring that smile back. Ya don’t need me.”  _

_        Rick: “I need you. You’ve always driven the darkness away and I don’t know, why I was such a fool, why I didn’t see before that you are everything I’ve always wanted. What if I lose you for good when I tell you? What if I lose you for good without having told you?” _

Unconsciously Rick’s hand moved closer to Daryl’s, until only a sheet of paper would still have fit into the gap. Without looking, without actually touching, they both were aware of how close their hands were, as if tiny electrical charges kept bouncing back and forth. Greatly daring Rick initiated a touch and splayed out his pincky just slighty, till it grazed Daryl’s. He almost expected the archer to pull away, but he did not. On the contrary. He returned the gesture, even slightly ran his finger along the side of Rick’s in a gentle and soothing manner.   
Unlike Rick, who wanted to test the boundaries in order to see, if he could even dare say what he had to say, Daryl figured his friend needed some kind of physical contact to draw strength from, to help him through his grief. There wasn’t much he could do, except just being there for Rick. And if right now, Rick needed someone close, needed to touch his hand to compose himself, he would provide.   
There would have been so much more he was willing to give, but this was hardly the time to tell Rick how he felt. Maybe there would never be the time. For now he just wanted to be Rick’s lifeline once more, the man he could turn to for support and a sympathetic ear, until one day he had overcome this new loss. 

       “I woulda traded places”, Daryl said unexpectedly. 

Rick’s head whipped around.

       “What?”

His time it was Daryl, who avoided his eyes.

       “I was gonna volunteer. Meant to take her place when Negan picked her, but she wouldn’t let me.”

Rick felt as though he had been punched in the guts and had to draw several deep breaths. _“My God!”_ Without thinking he grapped Daryl’s hand and held it tight. Again a gesture that was accepted all too willingly, but was totally misinterpreted. 

Gathering all his courage, Rick decided that holding back wasn’t gonna get him anywhere and that it would be a crime not telling this man just how much he was loved and appreciated. He deserved no less. 

       “When we left for the Hilltop”, he started in an unsteady voice, “I thought, it’d be just an easy ride to the doctor’s. No big deal. Just a few miles. I didn’t think there’d be a threat out there. Nothing we couldn’t handle. I thought we were totally invincable by now. After all, we always made it, always managed to survive, won any battle – how difficult could taking Maggie to the Hilltop be? When the first group of the Saviors blocked the road, I was still arrogant enough to stand up to them. They were just as many as we were and I was certain any open battle would be easily won, but they weren’t out for a confrontation. They let us proceed. We turned back and headed to another road, another way to get to the Hilltop, only to see that one blocked as well. And that happened again and again and again. More Saviors, more traps … they even killed a man right before our eyes, as a message, a warning, but by then there was no way out anymore. And I knew it.”

Daryl listened quietly. He had no idea where this story was headed, why Rick was telling him all this now, but it was obvious that there was something preying on his mind, something he urgently needed to talk about, so Daryl kept silent and let Rick hold his monolog. 

       “We couldn’t go back and each route we chose to move forward was blocked. They were playing with us, pushing us into the direction they wanted us. They probably even expected us to try and walk through the woods in the end. You know how that worked out. I screwed up. But even when we were lined up on that clearing, there was hope. I remember thinking that you were still out there, and Carol, Glenn and Michonne. That perhaps, somehow, someway, you guys were gonna get us out of this. It was stupid, of course. What chance did anyone stand against a group this large? Maybe I thought about Terminus and how Carol saved us back then. I guess, at that point I was clutching at any straw. But then … then they opened the back of that van … and I wanted to take that wish back more than anything. The wish that you’d be there. This was not how I wanted it. Never meant for anyone else to be in danger.”

Rick pulled in a deep breath, still holding on to Daryl’s hand, while the archer listened silently. _The wish that you’d be there._ You. Daryl wondered who Rick was referring to when he had said that – was he talking about all four of them in back of that van, or was he talking about him in particular? No, of course not. Why should he? Surely it was a plural ‘you’, referring to Michonne, Glenn and Rosita just the same. And Carol. Before he could ponder on that further, Rick continued:

       “After Negan … after he … you know …I couldn’t even look. I knew, he picked someone to my right, but I … I couldn’t look. I knew, it wasn’t Maggie. She had been right beside me. And then Glenn showed up and Abraham and Rosita … After that I knew it was either Michonne or you.”

Daryl felt a tremble run through Rick’s body and he gave the hand, that was still holding on to his, a reassuring squeeze. 

       “Then you were there. Right before my eyes. Alive. That’s when I knew it was her. That she was gone.”

This time it was Daryl who breathed in deep. Going over all this again was obviously Rick’s way to deal with his pain, but it was hard on Daryl’s still guilt-ridden mind. Even though Rick had assured him, that he wasn’t blaming him for Michonne’s death, deep down inside Daryl blamed himself nevertheless. 

       “Don’t know what ta say, Rick. Except …”

       “No”, Rick cut in, “you don’t understand. You … you got it all wrong. I was devastated, yes, but …because … I felt guilty. Guilty, because my arrogance had gotten all of us into that situation. And guilty, because … because I had treated you the way I had lately. I wasn’t there for you, when you needed me after Denise’s death. I pushed you away, focussed on Michonne, neglected our friendship, but … but … those tears weren’t for her last night. And I felt guilty for that, too. Those tears were for you.”

Rick felt Daryl slowly turn his head to look at him, but he dared not meet his eyes. Not yet. He first had to tell him, _really_ tell him, before he lost his courage.

       “I cried, because I hurt you. Because I didn’t see … didn’t understand …I couldn’t …” He started to stammer and stopped for a second to pull himself together. _“Don’t mess up, Grimes!”_   
       “I should have cried for her, should have been devasted over her death, but truth to be told – I was just relieved that it hadn’t been you. I really cared for her and I never meant for anything to happen to her, but if it’s between her and you … I couldn’t bear losing you, because … I think, I … I love you. I mean, not just as a friend or a brother. I … I … I think, I’m … _in love_ with you.”

He held his breath. Didn’t dare look Daryl in the eye. Just waited for his reaction.    
For a moment it was absolutely silent, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting as well.    
The next second a rough shove sent Rick toward the edge of the bed, accompanied by Daryl’s angry yell: “Get out, ya sonuvabitch!”, followed by a high-pitched yelp when a sharp pain ripped through his injured shoulder.    
       Totally taken by surprise, Rick only barely managed to hold on to the edge of the bed, before the shove could send him out head first, and struggled to his feet. With plain shock on his face he looked at Daryl, who was clutching his shoulder, cursing under his breath, his face distorted by pain. 

       “Daryl!” Rick reached out to him. “I’m sorry. I …”

       “Get lost!” Daryl glared daggers his way and swatted his hand away, before he gritted his teeth once more against the pain. 

Rick’s confusion and shock was palpable and he didn’t know what to do, didn’t comprehend how he could have been so completely wrong. He never expected Daryl to react this fiercely.

       “What … Can I … Would you … Please, I …”

Daryl had squeezed his eyes shut and breathed laboredly.  

       “Just go.”

It wasn’t all that furious any longer, more like a pleading, but the message was clear. Daryl wanted him gone. Something had gone terribly wrong.    
Before Rick had a chance to react, the door flew open and Rose hurried in.

       “What on Earth is happening in here?!”

She saw Rick standing there, helplessly running his hands through his hair, while Daryl was squirming with pain, clutching his shoulder. The mere fact, that Rick wasn’t by his wounded friend’s side, but stood there in the middle of the room, a mere picture of misery, had her understand in an instance that he was the source of the problem. Whatever the problem was.

       “I think, you best wait outside”, she said gently to him and just meant to hurry to her patient, when she heard him reply almost inaudibly:

       “He knows now.”

It was the saddest inflection she had ever heard and when she looked up with a surprised air on her face, she saw him heading out the door with sagging shoulders.   
For a second she wondered, what he’d meant by that, when she recalled walking in on Rick earlier, while he declared his love to his unconscious friend.   
_ Does he know?  _ Those had been her words. And they hadn’t just been a question, but had meant to be an advice just the same. _If you feel like that, let him know._

“Oh my”, she muttered to herself, while she hurried over to her patient’s side. _“What have you done, Rose?”_

She sat on the edge of the bed and touched Daryl’s uninjured shoulder.

       “Daryl.”

He flinched violently and she pulled her hand back instantly, a stern frown on her face.

       “Will you hold still? I’m trying to help you here.”

       “Don’t want no help.”

       “Don’t make me get the tranquilizer gun, you li’l pighead.”

That obviously got his attention and he looked at her with wide eyes.

       “Tranquilizer gun?”

       “Yeah”, she answered nonchalantly, while she started to gently remove the bandage to look at the wound, “this place is a zoo at times.” And she even kept a straight face while she said that.   
       “The stitches are okay”, she concluded her examination. 

While she applied some more iodine and a fresh bandage, she secretly cast one or the other glance at her patient’s face and noticed sadly, how he just stared blankly ahead of himself, his lips pressed together to a thin line.

       “Do you want to talk about it?” 

       “No.” 

       “You know, sometimes …”

       “Which part of ‘no’ ya ain’t gettin’?” 

She raised her hands defensively, before getting back up with a sigh. 

       “I’ll have Harlan look at you later, but for now try to get some rest.”

He didn’t reply. Just turned his back on her and probably the entire world, again staring blankly ahead of himself.  
Rose slowly walked over to the door to leave him alone, but then reconsidered and turned around once more.

       “He was your best bet to make it, you know. You need more transfusions and just kicked out the only donor.”

Again there was no reply. Daryl just kept staring at the wall with empty eyes. He didn’t even hear her any longer. 

 

_ Daryl’s POV _

How can you do this to me? Damnit, Rick, why? All this time, all these months … years, I’ve been dreaming about you reciprocating my feelings, of having you by my side as more than a friend, but I never believed it would happen. You are straight, for all I know, and it was okay, as long as I had your friendship, your brotherly love, your respect.   
It wasn’t always easy. Hell, on the contrary – many times it took all of the willpower I possess to hold back; to not hold you tight when you were sleeping by my side out there on the road; to not kiss you when we had one of the rare peaceful moments to ourselves; to give you an occassional handshake and let go of your hand again, although I just wanted to hold on. I guess back then, after Beth’s death, when I took off by myself to look for water … the tears I shed back then, weren’t just for Beth. They were because of you all the same – maybe even more so. Because I love you, but you … you don’t feel the same.   
Sometimes I wish, I could go back to the life I had before you – a life of solitude, a life without love. It was a cold and sad kind of existance, but it didn’t hurt half as much. But those moments, the moments I wish I had never met you, are very rare, because in the end I rather feel this pain, than feel nothing at all.   
If your friendship and your brotherly love was all you had to give, I would have learned to live with that and still be happy.   
I miss the prison. We had a good life there – a roof over our heads, food, water, the secluded circle of our little group. It could have been a place to raise the kids, to settle down, to just find some peace again. Wasn’t meant to be, I suppose.   
Even out on the road, things were okay. You were there, Carl and Judith, Carol … I grew really fond of our little community. Never asked for more people. Never asked for an entire town – a fucking crowd, a wall around me, fences … Everybody else calls it “security”. I call _that_ prison. I was never at home there, never felt comfortable, always felt like those walls were moving in on me and all those people smothered me. But for you, I would have endured all that. As long as you are there, every place is home.  
But the gate had just closed behind us, when you thought it a great idea to start an affair with Jessie. Of course, it hurt seeing you with her, but what did I expect? If I was too chicken to speak up and show you an alternative, I had to stand back and let you find someone else to love, to satisfy your needs, to find happiness with. If that someone was her, I sure wasn’t gonna interfere – if anything, I always ever wanted you to be happy, to find love again.   
And then she was killed. I wasn’t there, when it happened. Carl told me later how she died, what you had to do in order to free his hand, and after losing Lori in such a horribe way, I thought after losing her like that, you’d be devastated again. But you were not. You never mentioned her again. You just shrugged her off somehow and all of a sudden, in the blink of an eye, you and Michonne became a couple. Michonne. One of our own. Someone who’s been with us for months. That I could even understand. She had been a friend and confident to Carl and you for the longest time, you were out there together after the prison fell, you had grown close – still it just happened so sudden.  
I thought, you loved Jessie, but now I’m not so sure anymore. I thought you loved Michonne, but … She died last night, Rick! _Last night_! Only few hours ago she was murdered ferociously, yet you don’t seem to care.  
I would have died in her stead, if there’d been a chance to trade places. For you. So you wouldn’t lose someone you love all over again. I would have done just that – for you, for her, so you can be together and live happily ever after, however long that is these days. Was that all just an act? Did you lead her on, too? Like Jessie? You never even mentioned Michonne after last night, just don’t seem to care at all. Were there no tears for her at all?   
And now you dare hit on me? Dare tell me you love me? Am I just the next in line, the next one you think is at your disposal all too willingly? The next notch on your bedpost? And if I die tomorrow, will you just forget me as well, move on to the next, never shed a tear, never talk about me again? What do you take me for? What am I to you? What is everybody to you these days? Do you even know what you’re doing?   
Do you have any idea just how much I love you and what you mean to me? If you had made a pass months ago and _meant_ it, I would have been the happiest guy on Earth, but _this …_ This just now was the cheapest, most insulting and inconciderate thing anyone has ever done to me. I don’t know you anymore, Rick Grimes. I don’t understand you any longer, either. 

I just wish, I could stop loving you as well, but that hasn’t happened yet. 

*********


	7. Chapter 7

       “Hey there, li’l brother.”  
        
Daryl turned on his back and squinted at the blurred face hoving above him. A scene that was achingly familiar, like a déjà-vu. _Merle_. Something hurt deep down inside, still, faintly. A string of Daryl’s soul was touched softly, the echo barely audible, but it was there. 

       “D’ya miss yer ol’ brother Merle?”

       “Sometimes.”

Daryl nodded just slightly, trying to keep his eyes open and focussed, but his outburst had burned up the little energy he’d been able to rebuild after the transfusion and once more he was fading in and out.   
Just like back then, when he went looking for Sophia and was thrown off the horse, a bolt of his crossbow piercing his side as he had slid down a slope. He had almost died that day, but Merle had been with him. Somehow. Someway. Not in flesh and blood, but an image created by Daryl’s subconscious mind had been there to get him back onto his feet, push him, make him fight and stay alive. And imaginary, subconscious Merle had made him realize just how he felt for Rick, what his fears and hopes had been already back then. 

       _Yer his bitch now?_

Fear. The fear to be no more to Rick than a henchman, just like Carol had said later. The fear to only be considered good enough to do the dirty work that needed to be done. The fear of Rick just looking down at “that Dixon” like everybody else had always done, simply suffering him to have one more man to order around.   
No, Rick hadn’t done anything like that. He had never ordered or even asked him to go look for Sophia. That had been Daryl’s own choice, his own free will – maybe to show that he was more than “just a Dixon”; that he could be a worthy part of a group and would do his share to earn his place. And, yes, he would have wanted to find that girl, not only because he cared to see that child safe, but to earn Rick’s appreciation and trust.   
Yes, he had wanted Rick to _see_ him as the man he was, had wanted Rick to appreciate him, trust him, like him, befriend him … just care. No one ever had before. 

       _Rick and I_

That’s what he had said to Merle back then, when telling him about the rescue team that went back to find him. He hadn’t mentioned Glenn. He hadn’t mentioned T-Dog. It wasn’t important, that they had been there as well. Rick had been there. Rick and him, together, as a unit, as a team. Hope.

       _Grab yer friend Rick’s hand._

Daryl remembered how Merle had taunted him, had pushed him to go on climbing, reaching out his hand to him – the hand the real Merle hadn’t even possessed anymore – and telling him to imagine it was Rick’s. And he had. He had wanted Rick to be there instead of Merle, but even his subconscious mind was realistic enough to tell him, that at this point he was getting his hopes up too high. Rick accepted him, Rick valued him, but that he considered him a _friend,_ someone he would even go looking for out there, was doubtful. So it had been Merle up there at the edge of that slope, holding his hand out to him and Daryl had reached for it, imagining with all his might it was Rick’s. 

He’d been in love with Rick already back then. Had fallen for him during that rescue mission he was telling Merle about.   
The moment Rick had told him “I know exactly how you feel”, something had clicked inside of Daryl and he had seen Rick through different eyes all of a sudden. 

That one single sentence had been the most significant thing anyone had ever said to him, simply because Rick had acknowledged that this Dixon had feelings at all, was able to go out of his way for someone and honestly cared. He’d been the first person in Daryl’s life, who cared about how he felt, who was able to related to his feelings, because he, Rick, had felt the same, had _been_ the same.   
With just that one sentence, he had made them equals in right that moment. What he had really said was “I am like you”. He hadn’t looked down at him, had acknowledge that they had things in common, although their background couldn’t have been more different. Rick had been willing to help Daryl go look for Merle, despite of what the rest of the group thought about the older Dixon and the entire rescue mission in general.   
Rick hadn’t done that for Merle – he had done it for Daryl. Because the archer mattered. 

Daryl remembered that moment as though it just happened yesterday. Remembered how he had looked deep into those beautiful sky blue eyes and had seen the honesty and devotion in them.   
Rick had asked him to calm down back them, to keep a level head – probably thought this was much to ask from a man as impulsive and hotheaded as Daryl. In fact though, Daryl had been completely calm the moment Rick had offered his help, had said those magical words to him. Never before had Daryl felt such an immense wave of peace wash over him, as he had in that moment. He had never known how it felt to fall in love – there had never been anyone in his life worth those feelings – but when it happened back then, he knew _this_ was it. The feeling that turned the world around and had a person forget every kind of selfishness to make the happiness, wellbeing and wishes of someone else priority.  
If there had been anything at all back then, Daryl would still have wanted for himself, it was Rick’s friendship. Just that. Whatever it took. 

       _I can do that._

That’s what he had answered back them. I can do that – keep a level head, be calm, be so much more than what people see in me, be on your side, keep you safe, support you, be someone you can trust and appreciate. Be your friend, your brother – anything you want me to. If you let me. 

       “Yer still with me, li’l brother? Dreaming of yer friend Rick again? Makes me wonder why ya keep callin’ for yer ol’ brother Merle though, each time the shit hits the fan.”

       “Ain’t callin’ for ya. Yer just poppin’ up.”

       “Still – I’m here. He’s not. He’s never there when ya need him, unlike me.”

       “Yer fuckin’ kidding me, right? When were you ever there when I needed ya? Been over that before. Ya left me, although ya knew what he did.”

       “I told ya – I had ta leave. Woulda killed the old fart one of those days, if I hadn’t.”

       “So what? Maybe it woulda been for the better. Woulda spared me a lot – us. I was twelve years old, Merle! Ya just packed and left me alone, with him. ‘twas hell growin’ up in that shit hole even before that, but after mom had died and you had left, I was the only punching bag left for him.”

       “Thought it’ll make ya stronger, grow into a man who can defend himself. Said it before, you’ve always been the sweet one, Darylena.”

       “Fuck you, Merle. And stop calling me Darylena, ya prick. Pretty damn able ta defend maself, no thanks to you. – Did you know back then?”

       “Know what?”

       “That it was unlikely for me ta turn into the man ya wanted me ta be, no matter how hard ya tried? Is that why ya kept draggin’ some bitches along later – pathetic and futile attempt to _cure_ me or something? So, did ya know? For _he_ sure as hell found out somehow. ‘twas when the fist was replaced by his belt. Guess that was his attempt to cure me.” 

       “I didn’t _know_ , just had a hunch.”

       “Yeah, figured that. Is why ya didn’t care when ya left me. I was just yer pain- in-the-ass li’l queer brother, the old fart could beat to death for all ya cared.” 

       “Ain’t true, and ya know it.”

       “Just keep on tellin’ yerself that, if it makes ya feel better. Thing is, despite of how shitty ya treated me, _I_ was there for _you._ I stole for ya, I lied for ya, I covered for ya and in the end I even endangered the lives of them people for ya, who were the first ta ever care for me.”

       “Like Officer Friendly?”

       “Exactly, you sonuvabitch. _He_ was there, too, ta save yer sorry ass and I even bragged with ma great big brother. Said ya were the toughest asshole I ever met. But ya know what – yer not!”

       “Yeah? Think ya can do better?”

       “Know I can. Yer dead. I’m still around. Looks ta me, I’m way tougher than you, so leave me the fuck alone, Merle.” 

       “Ya don’t want yer brother, fine. But lemme tell ya this – I may suck in many respects, but I was always honest with ya, li’l brother. Been taunting and pushing ya all yer life, fact, but I never led ya on, never pretended ta feel any other way for ya than I did. Sure as hell never treated ya the way Officer Friendly just did. Looks like yer his bitch now after all, so watch who yer calling prick here.”

       “Fuck off, Merle.”  
        
       “Truth hurts, right?”

       “Just fuck off! Yer dead anyway.”

       “Yeah, and you killed me.”

       “Didn’t kill ya. Just put ya down. Yer dead for the same reason ya lost yer hand – because yer a simple-minded piece of shit, siding with assholes like that Governor, hurting and killing people for the fun of it.” 

       “Did what I had ta do ta survive.”

       “Didn’t work pretty well, did it?”

       “Think playing house with Officer Friendly and his brats is gonna work any better? Yer a poor excuse for a Dixon. Wonder if ya even are. Maybe mom’s been bumping uglies with the mailman. Couldn’t even blame her.” He laughed derisively.   
        “Fact of the matter is, baby brother, I never did anything for people, never expected anything from them, either. But yer working yer balls off, if ya ever grew any, ta make those pricks love ya and the funny thing is, they still ain’t. Face it, whether ya really are one or not – you’ll always be just a fucking Dixon to them. No one will ever love ya – least of all yer buddy Rick. Is like I said – they scraped ya off their heels like ya was dog shit. Shoulda listened, but ya knew better.” 

“I did listen. Ya said no one was ever gonna care for me, ‘cept you. But the truth is, ya never did. Yer a fucking liar and I ain’t listening a second longer. Is ma business here, not yers. And ya know shit about love or friendship, so why d’ya think ya can give any fucking smart advice?”

“Got a point there. Never cared for that emotional crap. Only makes ya weak and vulnerable. Look at yerself, man. I was better off without it. Pity ya never had the brother ya wanted.

“I did. Just wasn’t you.”

Imaginary Merle just sneared at him for a moment.

       “Jesus fucking Christ, ya should get over that Rick dude. Man, look what he’s turned ya into.”

       “And what’s that, dumbass? Someone, who ain’t spendin’ his life stealing, drinking, doing drucks, hurting and killing people for the fun of it? Sorry, ta be such a disappointment, Merle, but I think Rick brought out the better side in me. And maybe I ain’t wanna get over him. Maybe I’m just gonna hold on to that pain ta know I’m still alive. You were dead even before ya were shot.”

       “Yer hopeless. And maybe ya deserve yer misery. Don’t come calling for me ever again with yer pathetic shit.”

That said he just disappeared, vanished into nothing.

       “Ain’t calling for ya, ya poor excuse for a brother!” Daryl yelled after him, before he pulled in a deep breath and closed his eyes, muttering almost inaudibly: “Don’t need ya, either. I’m good on ma own. Been on ma own all ma life.”

He didn’t know Rose had never left the room. She was standing with her back leaning against the door, listening to his conversation with an imaginary brother, the subconscious revelation of all his anxieties, frustrations, sad memories and lost hopes he obviously had no one else to talk to about. 

       “You are your own worst enemy, aren’t you, Daryl Dixon?” she whispered to her delirious patient, while a single tear ran down her chubby cheek. 

 

After he had left the room, Rick had stood in the corridor for a moment, running his fingers through his curls and drawing in one deep breath after the other in order to compose himself. He was upset. Upset with himself. And confused.   
What had gone wrong? He didn’t get it. Even if he had read the signs completely wrong and Daryl was straight and in no way interested in a romantic relationship with him, would he react this fiercely to his revelation? Sure, Daryl grew up in a redneck family with a brother, who even proudly displayed Nazi symbols on his bike, but Daryl was different. He was no racist or sexist or in any way prejudice towards people that former societies had labled as ‘degenerated’. Maybe Rick had been wrong. Maybe Daryl was not ‘swinging the other way’, but the revelation that he, Rick, was – if only for him – or the implication that Daryl may be, too, shouldn’t have been a reason for the archer to react this furiously.   
He had to talk to him, had to clear this up. Then again, what more was there to say? The cat was out of the bag and he wasn’t going to take anything back. This was how he felt and he wasn’t ashamed. He was just afraid. Afraid that his honesty had cost him the most precious possession he had next to his children – Daryl Dixon’s friendship.   
Rick cursed under his breath as he slowly walked towards the door to the balcony. He needed some fresh air, needed some privacy and time to think. His thoughts were running wild once more and his confusion was almost palpable.   
This may have destroyed everything they had built up between them during the past two years. All the trust and respect, friendship and affection … he may have blown it out of the water just now. How could he ever face Daryl again? Would they be able to survive this, to still live in the same place and work together as a team? After how Daryl received his revelation, Rick didn’t see that happening. It was more likely for him to pack his stuff and leave Alexandria first chance he had. Even if Daryl was going to live, he would lose him after all. Maybe he would never see him again.

       “You shoulda kept your mouth shut”, he berated himself, while he stepped onto the balcony. “What the fuck were you thinking, Grimes?”

He knew exactly what he’d been thinking. That keeping his emotions for Daryl a secret and never telling the archer how he felt, was a mistake. That one day finding out that they felt the same and at the end of the line realizing that they wasted their chance on a happy life together, would be the worst that could ever happen to them.   
Now he wasn’t too sure about that any longer. Maybe a lifetime with Daryl by his side as just a friend would have been far better than losing him now over the revelation of a love that was not reciprocated. Obviously not in the least even appreciated.   
With sagging shoulders and a heavy heart, Rick stepped up to the parapet and slammed his hands on top of it forcefully in a helpless gesture of frustration. Without even looking down or consciously taking anything in at all, he hung his head and stared blankly ahead of himself. All he saw were Daryl’s angrily blazing eyes, all he heard was his furious voice, yelling at him.   
Their home was in danger, a new threat lurking out there, one of their own was dead, two others injured and everybody once more expected him to know the way, to have all the answers, to take the lead.   
Yet he had never before felt so lost, confused and incapable to be at the helm. He wasn’t able to stir their ship without his beacon to show him the way, and they didn’t go anywhere without the wind to move them forward. Fact of the matter was, he could claim to be the leader of this group all he wanted, but it had been Daryl for the longest time whose judgement had shown him the way. And without the strength and support that man provided to him, Rick wasn’t able to carry the load of responsibility. 

       _“I can’t do this without you, Daryl. Don’t want to.”_

Once again he didn’t know what to do, where to turn and the one man he’d always turned to in the past, had clipped the line. 

 

Down in the plaza Rosita sat up and squinted her eyes to make out the lone figure on the balcony. She nudged Eugene with her elbow and said:

       “Is that Rick up there?”

Eugene craned his neck to look in the direction she was pointing her finger, the gesture drawing Aaron’s attention as well, who’d been sitting on the steps of the RV, brooding. 

       “Positive”, Eugene simply confirmed, before turning his attention back to the book he had started to read a little while ago.

In the next moment he fell over backwards, when Rosita jumped to her feet without a warning, thus bereaving him of the support he’d been leaning against. She cast him a quick glance and stopped only reluctantly, while she’d already set out to head to the Barrington House. 

       “Stop fooling around, Eugene, and get a move on. We gotta talk to Rick, before he disappears again.” She waved to Aaron. “Vamanos!” 

Shrugging, Aaron held out his hand to Eugene, who lay on his back like a beetle, and pulled him to his feet. Then they hurried after the young Latina, who was already running up the steps to the front porch.   
As soon as Rosita darted through the door, she saw Abraham, Sasha and Jesus standing on the landing of the stairs and, Eugene and Aaron right behind her, hurried towards them.

       “Rick’s on the balcony!”

She didn’t even wait for a reply, but simply brushed past the three people on the landing, Aaron and Eugene still on her heels. It took Jesus, Abraham and Sasha only a second to process the information, then they followed in fierce pursuit.

       “Hey, now wait a minute!” Jesus called after Rosita. “My turn first!”

       “Yeah?” she called back. “Rules of democracy – you are clearly outnumbered.” If the situation hadn’t been this serious, she would have added a derisive laughter.

Once on top of the stairs, the little group raced down the corridor towards the balcony, when suddenly a door to the right opened and a sturdy, elderly woman stepped into their path and held up her hand to stop them.   
Rosita and Aaron, who had been in front, both considered for a split second to slip past her on either side, but reconsidered simultaneously, stopping dead in their tracks and thus causing the rest of the group to bump into them with lots of curses and grunts. On any other day, this scenario would have been hilarious, but no one felt like laughing and the way Rose was glaring daggers their way, scotched even the slightest tinge of humor that may have occurred. 

       “What on Earth has gotten into you? Sounds like a stampede out here! Have you lost your minds? There’s sick people on this corridor, who need to rest and your noise wakes the dead …”

She fell quiet with a shocked air on her face, covering her mouth with one hand, obviously realizing too late what she had just said. Jesus made his way to the front and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

       “Honestly, Rose, that wasn’t us.” A tiny smile played around his lips.

Pulling a face, she reached up and tugged at one of his ears.  
        
       “You just never know when to stop, don’t you, Paul? That’s not funny.” 

       “Yeah, it is”, Abraham commented drily. 

In the next second he slipped past Rose and hurried outside onto the balcony. 

       “Damn!”

Jesus meant to do the same, as well as the rest of the assembled group, when Rose proved to be faster than all of them, effectively blocking the door with her chubby body. 

       “Hold it right there! What is going on here?”

       “I need to talk to Rick”, Jesus replied urging. 

       “ _We_ need to talk to him first”, Sasha said, casting him a killer scowl. 

       “And guess what”, Rose let her eyes wander over the young people in front of her, “you’re all gonna wait till _I_ talked to him.”

Before anyone even had a chance to protest, she had stepped out onto the balcony and had pushed a totally taken aback Abraham back into the corridor with all the strength her sturdy body could muster. 

       “Now you all listen to me! That out there is a patient and he’s in _my_ care. And the last thing he needs right now is being bothered with your questions and concerns and problems.” _“He’s got enough of his own”,_ she added silently. 

       “But those are his problems all the same”, Sasha protested. 

       “Maybe. But he’s in no condition to deal with them right now. I hate to tell you this, but loading more worries onto his shoulders at this point, is like kicking a man who’s already on the ground. You look like a bunch of capable, smart, reasonable people to me, so give him a break, for crying out loud, and try to figure things out without him for once. And now – shoo!” 

       “Shoo?” Jesus repeated with a smirk, that vanished instantly, when he saw Rose’s warningly raised finger once more.   
       “Retreat, fellows”, he addressed Rick’s group. “Rose is right. If Rick is unable to be of any help right now, we oughta give him the time he needs and try to come up with a plan ourselves.”

A moment of discontent grumbling followed, but one by one the members of the assembled group turned around to head back down the corridor.

       “How is Daryl?”

Eugene’s voice had them stop dead in their tracks and look at each other with a guilty air on their faces. Not one of them had even thought about asking.

       “He’s still weak and far from being out of the woods. And he needs more transfusions, which is exactly why we need Rick first of all. So, please, leave now. If you wanna see Maggie and Glenn, they are in the third room to the right, but make it a brief visit. She needs her rest, too.”

Quietly they turned around and walked down the corridor towards Maggie’s room to pay her and Glenn a visit. Their earlier exuberant behavior had evaported and had made way for a determined, mature attitude. It was true what Rose had said – they weren’t a bunch of children, who needed someone to take them by the hand and show them the way all the time. It was time they got their act together and gave Rick a hand, came up with a plan of their own, made some decisions he only had to second or reject. And they needed the Hilltop people at the table to come up with a common solution. 

       “Get Gregory to join us”, Abraham said to Jesus when they arrived at Maggie’s door. “This isn’t just Alexandria’s problem, it’s the Hilltop’s just the same. We need to come up with a plan that involves both communities and at best all the others you know of as well. It’s time we stopped trying the lone wolf approach and learn to fight as a pack.”

Jesus raised one eyebrow.

       “Empurpled metaphor.” 

       “Will you talk to Gregory or not?”

       “Sure. Sounds like a plan to me.”

Abraham gave a derisive grunt.

       “Far from being a plan, but it’s a start. And if for once things work out the way they’re supposed to, that Negan dude isn’t even gonna know what hit him.”


	8. Chapter 8

After Jesus, Abraham and the rest of the group had wandered off, Rose had stepped out onto the balcony once more and had slowly walked up to Rick, who still stood at the parapet, unmoving. She had looked out over the town and the meadows beyond the wall and waited, quietly and patiently. If he wanted to talk, it had to be him starting the conversation. Otherwise she would just leave and give him the time he needed, but there _was_ need for talk. Just not about Alexandria’s concerns or the Hilltop’s, but most definitely about his and Daryl’s. 

       “Thank you.” Rick’s voice was barely audibly, but she heard him nevertheless.

       “You’re welcome.”

For another long moment he kept quiet. When he finally spoke again, he sounded tired and defeated. 

       “Is Daryl okay?”

       “No.” She saw him flinch. “No, he is not okay. And neither are you.” Cautiously she took a step closer to him. “And I’m not talking about his shoulder or the need for further transfusions.”

He sighed audibly.

       “I know.”

       “What happened in there?” she dared ask. If this was none of her business and he didn’t want to talk about it, he was going to tell her so. But if he needed any help and advice, perhaps she was the only one he could even talk to.

Rick shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture.

       “I don’t know. We’ve been friends for a long time. We met shortly after the outbreak and we did have our differences at first, but that was then … When my best friend, my wife and pretty much the entire world turned against me, he was there. He became an ally and a confident and soon a friend … a brother. And now I … I …”

       “Now you love him.”

Rick nodded slightly.

       “Loved him all this time, but I had no idea that … that I was _in love_ with him. Till last night.”

       “What happened last night?”

A shudder ran through Rick’s body. Not again. He didn’t want to talk about it, relive it all and once more feel all the anxiety, but Rose was here to help, to hear him out and he was thankful for that. As a matter of fact, he needed help and he needed someone to talk to – and she was the only one he could imagine talking to about _this._ The others were too close to him. They were his group, his family – maybe they wouldn’t understand. Might react just as fiercely as Daryl had. He needed someone from the outside to confide in first.

       “We fell into Negan’s trap. Caught me and five of the others, when we were trying to take Maggie to the Hilltop. Daryl and three others were out there in the woods and at some point they got them, too. They had us in a line-up. Negan was walking up and down with Lucille, playing eenie meenie miney mo to pick who he was gonna kill.”

She audibly pulled in a deep breath and covered her mouth in shock, but didn’t interrupt. 

       “He stopped somewhere over to my right. I couldn’t look. Daryl was over there. And Glenn. And a woman named Michonne. She and I … we’ve been together. I thought, I loved her and in a way I did, but then … when Negan had made his pick and I came to realize that it was either her or Daryl, who got killed …”

He stopped and clenched his teeth, trying to maintain his composure. 

       “I should have been devastated, when I found out it was her, but I was just relieved. Relieved and happy and grateful that Daryl was alive. And at the same time I felt guilty and ashamed and confused …”

He sighed.

       “I tried to explain all this to him just now. Figured you were right and he should know, because there may never be a second chance to tell him. There was that chance, of course, that he wouldn’t understand, that he wouldn’t appreciate the way I feel, but I thought I had seen signs that he felt the same. Guess I was wrong. But I thought, our friendship would be strong enough for him to accept it and deal with it, even if he was unable to reciprocate those feelings. But he got furious. He pushed me out of the bed and started yelling. You saw him.”

A frown appeared on her chubby face and she looked at him quietly for a moment. Then she said:

       “Who is Merle?”

Rick’s head whipped around and he looked at the nurse with big eyes.

       “What? How …”

       “Was that his brother?” Rose cut in. 

       “Yes.”

She nodded.

       “And he’s dead.”

       “How do you know …”

       “He was talking to him.”

Rick’s eyes grew even larger.

       “He was talking _about_ him.”

       “No, as I said – he talked _to_ him. After you left, his outburst had pretty much exhausted Daryl once more and he was fading in and out again. He must have seen his brother, his subconscious mind playing tricks on him and … he’s a very troubled young man, isn’t he?”

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Rick’s mouth.

       “I guess, but he would appreciate you calling him ‘young’. The man’s in his forties.”   

       “So?” She cocked her head. “If you’re older than the people you’re talking about, you’re smart to call them young. Otherwise, what does that leave you?” 

He couldn’t help smiling about that. Rose’s optimism and humor was heart-balm.

       “What did he talk to Merle about?” Rick asked cautiously after a moment.

       “Only heard his replies to whatever imaginary Merle said to him, but one thing’s for sure – he didn’t have the best of relationship to his brother and it sounded as though he’s been beaten by his father. The reason for both apparently is the fact that Daryl is, as some people like to put it, ‘swinging the other way’. And he admitted right out to love you.”

       “He did?” Rick asked doubtfully. 

       “Yes”, she lied. 

Daryl hadn’t actually said the words, but that he loved Rick was obvious and you only had to ‘get over’ someone, when you were in love with them. So she figured, she could risk that little lie for the best of both of them. 

       “Then I don’t get it.” Rick threw his hands helplessly into the air. “Why … if …”

       “Rick, this is something you need to talk to _him_ about. I can only tell you, that it’s worth a try, because you do feel the same for each other. Whatever it is that’s still in between, is for you to figure out.”

She could almost see the little wheels in his head turn, before he gave a nod and straightened up, about to head back to Daryl’s room. A gentle hand on his arm stopped him.

       “You can’t talk to him right away”, she said sadly. “He passed out again and needs another transfusion first.”

       “God …”, Rick’s eyes moved skywards almost pleadingly, before he looked at Rose again, spreading his arms. “Anything you need. I’m here.”

She gave his arm a squeeze, as she slowly shook her head.

       “It’s too soon for you to give more blood right away and I doubt, Daryl would appreciate it very much …”

       “He isn’t gonna appreciate anything anymore, if he dies!” Rick burst out. “And I don’t care, if it’s too soon. I can handle it. There’s no other way!”

       “Now look here”, she said sternly, “you are my patient, too, and I will not risk your health to save him.” She saw the protest in his eyes. “You are needed, Rick! There are people counting on you and you’ve got children, I hear.”

The moment she had said that, Rick’s eyes grew large. 

       “Children … Carl!” He grabbed her shoulders, only barely able to refrain from shaking her. “Have you seen my son? Carl … He’s got the same blood type. He’s another donor!” He let go of her without waiting for an answer and headed for the door. “I gotta find him.”

       “Rick!” she called after him, having him stop dead in his tracks reluctantly. “The rest of your group just went to see Maggie. Maybe they know.”

       “Thanks”, he breathed, before he hurried down the corridor. 

 

When the door opened behind Maggie’s visitors, all heads turned to look at the new arrival. Abraham reacted first and meant to get up instantly to snap the chance to talk to Rick, but Sasha’s arm and the way she shook her head, had him stay put. It was totally quiet, all eyes resting on Rick’s face, widening in shock.   
He was pale, had dark rings underneath his eyes and a sad and defeated look on his face.   
His tired, red-rimmed eyes moved over the assembled faces and every plan to bother him with their current concerns simply evaporated. Rose was right – he was in no condition to deal with them and everybody’s heart went out to him.  
Rick looked in the eyes turned his way and breathed in deep.   
What were they thinking? Were they blaming him for what happened? Had they decided amongst themselves that he best stepped down and let someone else take the helm? He almost wished they had. 

       “You okay?”

What a stupid question to ask after last night, but right now, he was unable to think straight and come up with anything wittier.

       “Rick …” Maggie held out her hand to him and he slowly walked up to her bed, lowering himself to the edge hesitatingly. 

       “I’m sorry”, he said almost inaudibly, when he looked into her ashen face, that still looked little better than his own. “I failed you. All of you.”

       “No.” She reached up and pulled him into a tight embrace. “No, you did not. It wasn’t your fault and no one’s blaming you.” She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “We are sorry for your loss.”

She felt him flinch and ran her hands soothingly over his back, before releasing him. When he sat up, she wasn’t surprised to see tears pool in his eyes and with a sad smile, she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.  
Once more he felt guilty. _Sorry for your loss._ Of course, she was referring to Michonne, but all he could think of was Daryl. He screwed up and Daryl’s life was still at stake. One way or the other he may lose him and that thought broke his heart.   
He swallowed thickly and returned the squeeze to his hand.

       “Harlan says, the baby is okay?”

A smile spread over her face and she nodded happily. When Rick looked up to meet Glenn’s eyes for a moment, he was relieved to see a smile on the Asian’s face as well. Good news for once. And any good news were a flicker of hope. 

       “How’s Daryl?” Glenn asked cautiously, watching in shock how the smile vanished instantly from Rick’s face to make room for something close to panic. 

“Not good. He had one transfusion, but he needs more.” He broke off and pressed his lips together for a moment, before looking at the assembled people.   
“Anyone here with blood type A positive?”

As to be expected, the answer were shrugs and shaking heads, accompanied by regretting murmors. 

       “I … I would, but … I’m not supposed to give anymore blood at the moment, but … he … like I said, he needs more. Has anyone seen Carl?” 

       “Not since last night”, Aaron answered and again everybody else answered either with a shrug or a shake of their head. 

       “I’m here.”

Carl’s voice behind them had the group turn to the door once more, where in just that moment the boy had entered so silently that no one had heard him. He looked at his father sternly and slightly challenging, but didn’t say anything more.  
Rick got up with a relieved sigh and walked up to him.

       “Carl, thank God. We need to talk.”

       “Yeah? About what?” Now the inflection was clearly challenging. 

       “Daryl.”

Carl’s eye narrowed.

       “Got nothing more to say about him.”

Rick felt anger and frustration rise inside of him, when he noticed the stubborn expression on his son’s face and in the next moment he pulled the door open and pushed the teenager out into the corridor.

       “But _I_ got more to say about him and you’re gonna listen.”

The door hadn’t even closed behind them, when Carl snapped:

       “Save your breath, dad. I heard what you said – that Daryl needs more blood and you’re looking for someone with A positive.” Rick just nodded, relieved that he obviously didn’t have to explain too much. The next moment Carl’s derisive snort had his heart skip a beat.

       “Forget it! I’m not gonna give any blood - not for him. He killed Michonne.”

Rick grabbed his son’s shoulders, once more barely able to refrain from shaking.

       “Do you even hear yourself? _Negan_ killed Michonne and you know it. It isn’t Daryl’s fault, that she is dead.”

Carl took a step back and swatted his father’s hands away, his eyes blazing.

       “It is! If he hadn’t left, she wouldn’t have been out there. It was his stupidity that led to this.”

       “Yeah?” Rick’s eyes grew cold as glacier ice. “I hear you are out in the woods a lot with Enid, although you know damn well that it’s dangerous outside the walls. If someone was to follow you out there to protect you and got killed in the process, would you want to be blamed for that?”

A frown appeared on Carl’s face, but before he was able to answer, Rick continued:

       “Michonne was a grown woman and she was strong and a fighter and capable of making her own decisions. And it was hers to go after Daryl and try to help him – he didn’t ask for that. You said yourself, you weren’t gonna let anyone else die like Denise. You were furious about her death and Daryl was even closer to her. Yet in the end you were not able to prevent Michonne’s death – none of us was. Some things just happen. They are the sum of a couple of unfortunate incidents, yet no one’s fault except for the one, who pulls the trigger. Or swings a baseball bat for that matter. If anyone is to blame at all, it’s Negan and now more than ever we need to stick together. Going against each other now, is the worst we can do.”

Rick noticed Carl’s furious expression turn into a frustrated and sad one.

       “But I really loved Michonne. She was a friend. Maybe she was even like … like … like a mom.” His voice grew softer. “And she was always there …”

       “And Daryl?” Rick’s inflection mirrored that of his son. “He was there first. He saved your sister’s life when she was just born. He took care of you when I wasn’t able to. He saved all of us countless times over and he really cares for you and Judith.”

       “And you.” Carl added almost inaudibly, staring at the tip of his shoes now, while Rick pulled in a deep breath.

       _“I’m not too sure about that anymore, but let’s not complicate matters.”_

“Yeah, and me”, he replied softly. “He’s family, Carl, and face it – we let him  
down. He was all alone with his grief over Denise’s death and he’s blaming himself for it. But did you go talk to him? Did you lend a sympathetic ear? I sure as hell didn’t, although I should have. We owe him, Carl, and we should make it up to him. Be there for him _now_.”

Carl didn’t look up and he didn’t reply, either. Rick felt his patience fade and something close to panic once more got a hold of him.

       “Carl! His _life_ is at stake, for crying out loud, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna lose him, too. Do you?”

“No.”

Rick let out a relieved sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. 

       “He really needs that transfusion. Can I count on you?” Carl nodded wordlessly and an immense worry seemed to drop off Rick’s soul. He pulled his son into a tight embrace.   
“Thank you.” They stood like that for a moment, then Rick said gently: “The nurse is with Daryl now. I think, you best go there right away. I’ll just talk to the others real quick and then I’m gonna join you.”

Again Carl did not reply, but just nodded. Then he pulled back and gave his father a probing glance.

       “Did you love Michonne?” he asked suddenly and had Rick flinch. For a moment it was quiet between them, as they looked at each other – Rick trying to figure out, why Carl had asked him that just now and how to best answer to the question. In the end it wasn’t all that difficult.

       “Yes. There are different ways to love though, Carl, and you never love one person the same way or with the same intensity as another one. But I cared a lot for her.”

       “But she wasn’t the love of your life?”

Rick’s eyes widened. Those were very personal questions. Questions a parent shouldn’t be asked by their child, but he opted for honesty nevertheless.

       “No.” 

       “That was mom, right?” 

Rick shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to decide just how far this honesty was going to go, how much more of this conversation he was willing to allow. 

       _“Yes, I guess she was – the love of my former life. A life that ended about two years ago, when the world as we knew it ended as well. I’m not the same man I used to be, either. Just like Shane, I’m losing myself in all of this and the man I am now, is not_ the _Rick Grimes anymore. That one died in a hospital bed a long time ago. And the former Rick Grimes, yes, would say the love of his life was Lori, the mother of his children. Now she’s just a fading memory and their love is, too._  
_ This new and altered Rick Grimes is who I am now, Carl, and I found another love at the beginning of this new time. Someone, who suits my new self and these times so much better than your mom could ever have. That doesn’t mean I loved her less, but she is the past. He is the present and the future – hopefully. The love of my current life.” _

Rick didn’t realize that he was simply staring at his son wordlessly, while these thoughts crossed his mind. He wasn’t even still seeing the boy in front of him, just saw images of both Lori and Daryl in his mind’s eye and they made him sad. 

       _“Maybe I’ve lost the love of my life twice”,_ he couldn’t help adding to his thoughts and his jaw muscles clenched visibly. 

When he stopped staring and became aware of his surroundings again, he noticed in surprise that Carl wasn’t there anymore. With a frown on his face, casting his father a suspicious glance, the boy had turned around and had started to walk down the corridor without another word. 


	9. Chapter 9

Quietly Carl entered Daryl’s room and saw an elderly woman apply a new bag to his IV. She looked up and cast him a smile, which he returned shyly. 

        “Hi. My dad says you are looking for a donor? For a blood transfusion?”

Her smile widened. 

        “You’re Carl.”

He nodded and took a step further into the room. Daryl hadn’t moved when he came in, but now his eyes opened and he turned his head to look at Carl deadpan. For a long moment they just looked at each other, the boy visibly starting to squirm under the man’s gaze.   
Rose remembered what Daryl had told her earlier. That someone blamed him for the death of a member of their group and Rick confirmed that someone to be Carl. Obviously there were still things to be sorted out here and so she cleared her voice softly and said:

        “I’ll be right back.”

That said she headed for the door and left the two of them alone. Another long awkward moment passed, then Daryl said:

        “Yer dad sending ya?”

Carl just nodded.

        “Ain’t want ya to do nothing ya don’t want.”

Daryl turned his head away, releasing the boy from the gaze in which Carl seemed to have been caught like a deer in the headlights. There was silence between them once more as they were both at a lack for words.

        _“Man”,_ Daryl couldn’t help thinking, _“looks like I got major communication problems with the Grimes men these days.”_

        “I’m sorry”, Carl said softly suddenly. 

It sounded genuine, but it was obviously true what they said – sometimes ‘sorry’ seemed to be the hardest word to say. 

        “Don’t be”, Daryl answered, looking at Carl once more. “Maybe yer even right.”

The boy shook his head and breathed in deep.

        “No, it was a stupid thing to say. It wasn’t you, who killed Michonne and it was her decision to follow you. I had no right to blame you.”

        “That yer words or yer dad’s?” 

        “Both.”

        “Uh.” With a confirmative nod, Daryl acknowledged the information, before he gave the still squirming boy a scrutiny.   
        “Relax, Carl. We’re good.”

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Carl’s mouth, when he looked into the archer’s eyes. 

        “Thanks.”

Daryl returned the smile.

        “Yeah, same here. For the blood – and the apology.”

“Especially the blood, I guess”, Carl teased.

He was surprised, when he saw a thoughtful air come to Daryl’s face.

“Not necessarily.” 

Another smile spread over the boy’s face and he pointed to the door. 

        “Guess I best try to find Harlan or that nurse now.”

Daryl waved the comment off.

        “She’s probably eavesdroppin’ right in front of that door”, he said louder than necessary and a second later Rose entered with an indignant look on her face.

        “I was not eavesdropping. I just made sure you boys were having a decent conversation and no one got hurt in here.”

With a frown Daryl replied: 

        “What, ya think he was gonna kill me?”

        “I didn’t say it was _you_ I was worried about, did I? Taking into consideration how you kicked the boy’s father out …”

She stopped in midsentence, when she saw the reaction in Daryl’s eyes and cursed silently. That had slipped. She hadn’t meant to spill that information and apparently, her patient would have preferred this to remain a secret as well.   
Carl looked from one to the other with big eyes.

        “Did you have a quarrel with my dad?” he addressed Daryl. 

        “Sort of.”

        “About what?”

The man’s eyes narrowed.

        “Look, it’s between yer dad and me.”

Carl raised his hands defensively. “Sure.”   
        “Whatever ‘it’ is …” he added almost inaudibly. 

Daryl heard him perfectly well though and for a second he felt his heart skip a beat. His features remained totally under control though and his expression didn’t give his racing heartbeat away. Maybe it was just a remark without Carl having anything in particular in mind. Maybe what he meant to say was, that ‘it’ could just about be anything. Was there a way he knew? Did he, Daryl, give himself away at any time? Did Rick hint something to his son? No. No to both questions.    
He breathed in deep. He had to talk to Rick sooner or later. Preferably later, but for the sake of all of them it had better be sooner. They had to clear this up. These days it wasn’t as easy anymore as it used to be, to go separate ways. He couldn’t just tell Rick to get lost and stay clear of him. It didn’t work that way. They lived in the same small town, the same house, were part of the same little group. They were a team, worked together, saw each other day in, day out – they were family. Unless Daryl decided to leave the group and Alexandria altogether, there was no way to avoid Rick.   
And deep down inside he had never intended to avoid Rick, to leave Alexandria – to leave _him._ They could work this out. They had to. There’d got to be a way.

        _“Got nowhere to go, no one ta turn to. Without ya, I’m nobody again. Nothing. And I still love ya, Rick Grimes. Much as I sometimes wish I ain’t.”_

He wasn’t ashamed of his emotions, didn’t fear or reject them. He just meant to keep _it_ , whatever it was that was going on between him and Rick, a secret until he had had a chance to talk to Carl’s father. Until then, it was nobody’s business. 

        “Have a seat.” 

Rose addressing Carl and pointing to the chair next to the bed, ended Daryl’s train of thought and he focussed on his surroundings once more. It was silent while the nurse prepared the transfusion. When she was done, she straightened up and said:

        “I’ll get some juice and something to eat for you boys.” She took the hat off Carl’s head and placed it on the nightstand, winking at him. “It’s more comfortable this way, don’t you think? Besides, I really don’t see why you guys are all hiding behind either hair or hats.” She squinted at Carl. “Or both.”

        “She’s a sucker for blue eyes”, Daryl commented drily.

Carl shrugged.

        “Sorry, only got one in store.”

She was visibly uncomfortable with the turn of topic and gave the boy’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, before she headed to the door and left the room. As soon as she was gone, Daryl’s lips twitched and an amused sparkle came to his eyes. 

        “Good one.”

        “Think I should have offered to keep an eye on you while she’s gone?”

They both broke into laughter, Daryl stopping almost instantly though, when a sharp pain ripped through his shoulder once more. He gritted his teeth and all amusement faded from Carl’s face as well.

        “It’s really bad, isn’t it?”

Daryl would have liked to wave the comment off, but he didn’t have an arm left that was not attached to a tube.

        “Nah. If I wasn’t hurting at all anymore, that’d be really bad.” 

Carl swallowed hard, when he caught Daryl’s drift. After that nothing more was said and they were both lost in their own thoughts, waiting for Rose to return.

 

After he had watched Carl disappear into Daryl’s room, Rick had pulled in a deep breath, glad to have one concern less to worry about, and had then reentered Maggie’s room.   
It was completely quiet inside, as though everybody had waited for him to return, and they probably had.   
Rick suppressed a sigh. Did they expect a plan, decisions, someone who knew what to do next? If so, they were looking at the wrong man. At this point, he felt as though he was about to fall asleep standing up, his thoughts running in slow motion and with an effort, like someone walking through deep water. He didn’t have a plan, couldn’t decide which way to turn, because he had lost the way sometime last night, along with his confidence and hope. 

        “We were just trying to decide what to do next”, Jesus said cautiously. “Rose said, you’re in no condition to be bothered with anything at the moment …”

“And, no shit, man”, Abraham cut in, “you look as though she wasn’t kidding there.”

Jesus cast him a scowl.

        “Thanks for ending my sentence so eloquently.” 

        “Pleasure.”

At that point Jesus couldn’t tell anymore, if the red-haired man was taunting him or not, so he chose to simply ignore him.

        “Like I said, we are trying to come up with a plan. Why don’t you just have a seat and listen? Unless you’d rather …”

Rick waved off. 

        “Fine with me. I’m not much help right now. Can barely think straight.”

He dropped to the ground right where he’d been standing and leaned his back against a dresser.  
Vaguely he perceived that Jesus picked up again and told the assembled group about yet another community the Hilltop was trading with, called the Kingdom, which was led by a man named Ezekiel. He said the people there lived like in the middle ages, using spears and swords as weapons, mounted knights in armor defending them. Odd, but good people, with capable fighters and a leader, who was both wise and righteous.   
Fighters in armor, riding horses … Rick pulled up his knees and placed his head on his forearms. That man he and Morgan had come across when they’d been looking for Carol. The one he almost shot. That had been one of the Kingdom people. One of the _capable and good_ ones. 

        _“Damnit, Grimes, what kind of man have you turned into? When did you start to shoot first and ask questions later?”_

_         We get to come back from this. _

Those had been Hershel’s words such a long time ago. He’d been right back then. Rick had lost it, but he recovered – he came back. But some time after that he obviously lost _it_ again. His humanity, his empathy, himself. Was that before or after he chose to banish Daryl from his side? 

        _“You are my conscience, Daryl. Without you, I don’t get to come back.”_

        “We need to talk to that Ezekiel dude”, Abraham just said. We need to have the leaders of all communities at one table, combine our forces. We need more weapons and our people need to be trained.”

        “Not just to fight against walkers”, Rosita added, “but to fight against the Saviors.” 

        “A war”, Rick muttered and he hadn’t expected for anyone to hear him, but when all heads turned his way, he was proven wrong. 

        “Yes”, Sasha confirmed with a nod, “a war. But this time, we will take our time to prepare. This time, we will be strong, we will know the enemy’s weaknesses and strength.”

        “I would say there is a reasonable chance of success, unless …”

        “Shut up, Eugene”, Abraham cut the other man short, “this time we’ll stomp their ass.”

Unseen to the others, Rick flinched. Abraham had sounded so much like Daryl right now, that it hurt. Rick’s thoughts wandered to the room down the corridor, where his son was giving more blood to the archer and yet Daryl’s life still hung by a threat.   
        Out of the corner of his eyes Rick glanced over to Maggie and Glenn and wondered, if they’d been told about the choice he’d been forced to make. It didn’t appear as though they were aware of the fact, that each dose of antibiotic Maggie took, could have saved Daryl’s life as well and now would not.   
Rick heard the words that were exchanged around him, but they didn’t register any longer. He stared ahead of himself, but didn’t really see anything in front of his eyes.  
All he heard was Daryl’s voice, all he saw was a pair of blue eyes that used to shine whenever Rick was near.   
He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger and sat like that for a moment.   
He didn’t realize the voices around him had fallen quiet after a while, and he only heard Carl’s voice after the boy had called him three times, waving his hand before his father’s eyes.

        “Dad!”

Rick was jolted out of his stupor and looked at Carl in confusion.

        “What are you doing here? I thought you were with Daryl.”

        “I was, dad. Transfusion’s done and Rose said, he’s supposed to rest now.”

        “Which is exactly what you are going to do, too. Right now, young man”, a resolut female voice sounded from the door.

When Rick lifted his eyes, he saw Rose standing in the doorway, arms akimbo,  sending him a reproving look. Slowly Rick’s eyes wandered back to his son, when he saw him shake his head with a suppressed smirk.

        “She’s talking to _you_ , dad.” 

        “You bet, I am.” She walked into the room and sent a volley of scowls at the people assembled. “I thought, I made myself clear that this man is my patient and in no condition for your powwow here.” 

She reached out a hand to Rick and pulled him forcefully off the ground, while the entire group stared at her with their mouths gapped open. 

        “As though one was looking into a fish tank”, Rose muttered to herself, before she gently shoved Rick out into the corridor. At the door she turned around once more. “Gregory wants to see you, Paul. I’m sure you can very well dig up the hatchet without him, but you best not forget who’s still in charge in this town.” She looked at Maggie. “You feeling alright, hon?” 

The young woman nodded with a smile and earned a pleased smile from the sturdy nurse.

        “Now, this is a patient to my liking. Takes her medicine, eats properly, stays in bed and rests …” She looked at Rick with an arched eyebrow and he lifted his hands defensively, obviously thinking it best to just give in. 

A second later the door had fallen shut and the entire group exchanged looks that varied between surprised and amused.

        “Powwow and digging up the hatchet?” Glenn grinned.

Jesus shrugged.

        “She loves westerns. And in her case one better does as the white squaw says.” He rose to his feet. “I best go see Gregory now and fill him in on the situation and what we’ve got planned so far. I see you guys later.”

That said he was about to leave as well, when Carl’s words had him stop.   
“What are we gonna do now?”

        “Now”, Abraham said with determination, “we all gonna grab something to eat and then get the RV ready to head back to Alexandria ASAP. We can talk about what we got so far a while longer, but we won’t be set till that Negan ass is gonna make a reappearance. We need to be back home in case those pricks try something funny.”

Agreeing nods all around him. Then Glenn said cautiously:

        “Maggie and I are gonna stay here in the Hilltop.”

All eyes were on him instantly.

        “She’s not well enough for travelling and … we thought it best to have her close to a doctor till the baby’s here.” 

        “You wanna stay here for good?” Sasha asked with wide eyes.

        “No”, Maggie didn’t look happy at all, “just for the next couple of months. Like Glenn said, till the baby’s here. And … well, I sort of had the impression that I got a good rapport with Gregory and I could be kind of an ambassador. Know what I mean?” 

Again there were agreeing nods. 

        “Sounds reasonable”, Eugene tossed in. 

        “Good plan”, Abraham added.

        “We best leave today.” Aaron had remained quiet for the most part, but now his voice sounded strong and determined. “They are probably worried in Alexandria, wondering where everybody is.”

        “Yeah, especially Eric”, Abraham nudged the other man’s shoulder with a smirk, which earned him a disapproving frown.

        “ _All_ of them”, Aaron shot back. “And we got no way of knowing, if those Saviors won’t try an attack on Alexandria nevertheless. They know that about a dozen of Alexandria’s best fighters are right here, including the leader. There won’t ever be a better time, if they were to _try something funny._ ”

        “He’s right”, Rosita said after a moment of stunned silence. “Despite of what Negan said about him wanting us to work for him – that guy is nuts. And we pissed him off. He may in fact change his mind. Or maybe an attack was his plan all along.”

        “I doubt that”, Jesus picked up. “Their way of surviving is blackmailing others for supplies. They don’t go on runs, they don’t grow their own food – they simply take what everybody else was able to find, grow or manufacture.You don’t bite the hand that feeds you. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t planning to send some kind of message.”

        “We gotta let Rick know”, Glenn added, casting Jesus a questioning glance that was answered with a sigh.

        “I know that look”, Jesus replied. “You want me to fight the dragon, to get the message to Rick despite of Rose declaring nap time, right?” 

        “Nap time?” Carl chuckled. 

        “If you had to deal with Rose on a daily base, you wouldn’t be laughing now”, Jesus said with another sigh. “She threatened to cut off my hair while I’m sleeping, if I pissed her off again.” 

That remark prompted several smirks and laughs and despite of himself, Jesus joined in after a second. 

        “Alright already, I try to get the word to Rick. But I doubt he’s gonna accompany you guys back home. At least not today.”

        “He’s a big guy”, Abraham commented. “After his _nap_ , I’m sure the dragon is gonna let him out of her clutches.”

        “Yeah, but not Daryl”, Aaron tossed in and earned a surprised glance from Jesus.   
Obviously there was at least one more person here, who had a deeper insight into _matters_ among the group members. Daryl’s condition was exactly why Jesus had voiced doubts about Rick leaving and Aaron seemed to have caught his drift instantly.   
        “Daryl’s obviously in no condition to leave”, Aaron explained, while his ears turned a deeper shade of red, “and he may need more transfusions. That’s why they need Rick to stay. He’s a donor. For more blood. You know.” 

He saw several curious frowns about his stuttering and started squirming, when Jesus came to his aid. 

        “Exactly. Harlan said, he needed Rick to stay till Daryl’s out of the woods or we found someone else with A positive.” Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Aaron cast him a thankful glance. “Maybe you had best stay as well”, Jesus addressed Carl.

        “I could”, Carl replied, nervously stepping from one foot on the other. “But my baby sister is waiting at home …”

        “And Enid”, Maggie said with a smile and winked at the violently blushing boy. 

        “Well, since I have to face the dragon anyhow, I’m gonna ask her if one donor is enough or if Carl had best stay, too. Wish me luck.” 

That said he headed for the door and a second later it fell shut behind him.

 

After Rose had left Maggie’s room to join Rick, who was waiting for her in the corridor, she had silently looked him over, only to shake her head in dismay a second later.

        “This is a damn kindergarten”, she remarked drily. “You gonna get some rest right now or I’m gonna tie you down.” 

To her utmost surprise he didn’t even protest, but simply nodded wearily. 

        “Alright”, she added, “ _now_ I am really worried.”

        “How’s Daryl?” 

A tiny smile appeared on her face. Daryl. Of course. His one and only concern ever since he got here. 

        “Resting. He’s still weak, but better already and there is reason for hope.”

She saw him let out the breath he’d been holding and close his eyes in relief for a second. Softly she placed a hand on his back to gently push him forward.

        “Go ahead. You’re not gonna rest until you’ve seen him, I’m well aware of that. And if you wanna stay with him”, she moved closer with a conspiraturial smile on her chubby face, “I won’t tell.” 

He looked at her with the ghost of a smile flashing over his tired features.

        “Thanks.”

 

That was all he said, before he headed down the corridor toward Daryl’s room, while Rose watched him leave with a wide smile on her face. 


	10. Chapter 10

Rick closed the door gently behind him and walked up to the bed with soft steps. He almost felt as though he was cautiously approaching a wild animal, bracing himself for an attack at any given moment. 

A few steps away from the bed he stopped and looked quietly at Daryl’s unmoving form. The blue eyes were closed and the archer apparently was fast asleep. Rick couldn’t help giving a frustrated sigh. Why were things complicated all the time?

      “Ya wanna keep on staring at me, Rick?” Daryl’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and startled him. 

The next moment Daryl’s eyes opened and he gave the other man a scrutiny. Rick’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

      “How did you know it was me?” 

      “Man, I’m the guy who can tell walkers and living people apart by sound. And that bowlegged walk of yers I’d recognize any time.” 

      “Bowlegged … What?!” Rick looked genuinely indignant, which had Daryl feel a slight tinge of satisfaction. 

      “No sweat, Grimes. Nobody’s perfect, ‘cept for Mary Poppins and ya obviously ain’t her. – Whadda ya want?”

Rick chose to ignore the previous comments and to rather concentrate on the matter he came here for. 

      “Just wanted to see you. Talk to you.”

      “’bout what?” 

Rick sighed audibly.

      “Don’t do that.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed.

      “Do what?”

      “That. Playing dumb, pretending you don’t have a clue what I was gonna talk to you about. This is tough enough as it is.”

      “Yeah? And why’s that?”

Rick ran both hands through his curls and started pacing, while he tried to figure out what to say, how to explain himself without risking to mess up once more. In the end he realized that holding a speech without even knowing where Daryl stood was exactly how the trouble started, so he decided to pass the buck to him.

      “Why did you get so furious?”

For a moment the archer just looked at him piercingly, then he said.

      “Yer mom never told ya that yer not supposed ta answer a question with a question?”

      “Like you just now?”

That exchange had a tiny smile tug at the corners of Daryl’s mouth and he felt his racing heartbeat slow down. If this just proved one thing, than that his and Rick’s minds worked very much alike, still. There were times they had been able to communicate without words and even the slightest sign, that the bridge between them wasn’t burned, but simply blocked by hurt pride and misunderstandings, gave cause for hope. 

      “Sit down”, the archer said calmly and gave a nod toward the chair next to the bed. “Ya look like yer ‘bout ta fall asleep standin’ up.” 

With a heavy sigh Rick dropped into the chair and rubbed both palms over his face,  hoping to be able to drive some of the fatigue away.

      “Guess, you’re right. Feel about as bad as you look”, he teased, but this time Daryl didn’t join in. 

The older man’s features remained serious and it was him now, who was obviously trying to figure out how to start this conversation, how to put his thoughts and emotions into words. Something he had barely ever done in his life.

      “Man”, he let out his breath in a frustrated puff, “I ain’t good at this.” 

He averted his eyes and started staring at the ceiling, while Rick leaned slightly forward.

      “Look, I guess, we both got something to say and we both don’t know, if the other one wants to hear it. But holding back isn’t gonna get us anywhere. I … I told you something earlier and you got mad at me …”

He stopped, but Daryl was still staring ahead of himself, his face deadpan, so hesitatingly Rick continued. At best Daryl was at least listening. 

      “I meant, what I said. Got nothing else to say. I’m sorry, if I saw signs that weren’t there. Sorry, if I freaked you out. I just really don’t wanna lose you as a friend.”

He looked at Daryl’s unmoving features, waiting and hoping for any kind of reaction, but the archer remained completely frozen. 

      “Please”, Rick added pleadingly.

There was no indication that Daryl even heard what Rick said. After a moment the younger man let out a frustrated sigh.

      “Fine.”

He meant to get up, but Daryl’s voice stopped him.

      “If I died today, would ya still think of me tomorrow?” 

      “What?” Rick almost choked on the word.

      “Ain’t gonna hold no fucking speech here. Tell ya, why I was furious. Not ‘cause ya pretty much pushed me away after all we’ve been through. Woulda been okay, if ya’d been happy with Jessie or Michonne. But ya claimed ta love ‘em, both, and then when they died, ya just moved on, didn’t shed a tear, didn’t talk about ‘em again, as though ‘twas all just a game to ya. I’m just a Dixon, but ya ain’t gonna do that crap to me, Grimes. Ain’t nobody’s bitch.”

Rick’s eyes had widened about two sizes while he listened to Daryl and he felt as though he’d just been slapped to the face. And someone had best done that a long time ago.   
He hadn’t even realized what kind of entirely inconsiderate jackass he’d been, not only neglecting Daryl the way he had, while he’d seen first Jessie and then Michonne, but also making the archer feel like a cheap replacement in a row of apparently meaningless flings. 

His elbows resting on his knees, Rick placed his face in both of his palm and drew in a shuddering breath.

      “God …I had no idea it would appear like that.” He fell silent, his thoughts racing, while he sat like that for a long moment. When he lifted his head, he found himself looking straight into Daryl’s eyes.  
      “I … I was confused. I didn’t understand …”

      _“Get your act together, Grimes”,_ he chided himself. _“You’re unlikely to get another chance.”_

          “Look, thing is, I’ve cared a great deal about you for the longest time. You know that. You’re my brother, remember?”

Daryl couldn’t help giving a derisive snort.

      “With the brother I grew up with that’s more of a threat than a promise.”

      “You know what I really said back then. And I meant it, too.” He looked down and took great interest in the tip of his shoes all of a sudden.  
“I never felt this strongly for another man. Except maybe for Shane, but that was completely different. When I realized it, I … I didn’t know how to deal with it. And like I said – didn’t know, if you’d appreciate it in any way to begin with.  Jessie and Michonne ...  I really cared for them and they were known territory. Know what I mean?”

Daryl’s eyes seemed to glow with rising anger.

      “Not really. So ya had a hunch that you may have feelings for me, but that scared the shit outta ya or disgusted ya enough to rather go bang some girls at random, because that’s _known territory._ Did ya have ta prove to yerself yer straight or did ya wanna send me a message?”   

      “No!” Rick jumped to his feet again and started pacing in helpless frustration.   
Why did everything he said come off so completely wrong? Maybe because he had no idea what exactly he meant to tell Daryl? Because he didn’t really know what he had felt, why he made the choices he made? 

Daryl turned his back on him and stared at the wall with a burning sensation in his eyes.

      “Had enough homophobic assholes in ma family. Ain’t got no need for one more.”

Rick gasped, when he saw the scars that marred Daryl’s skin. He had never seen them before. Whenever Daryl had changed his shirt, he had made sure to be alone or to at least have no one see his back. And that included Rick as well.   
The younger man knew about the way Daryl grew up; about his violent father and the fact that Daryl had known a lot of physical abuse in his life. But he had no idea just how bad it must have been, until he saw the proof right in front of his eyes. 

Merle may even have had his share. The way he had delivered those punches and kicks to his brother back at the arena in Woodbury very well looked as though he’d  done just that before. But for the most part his way of abuse had probably been the verbal kind, and sometimes words hurt way more than fists. 

Right now, right here, Rick was certain that he was even worse than Merle. Growing up with a man like his brother, Daryl probably never expected any kindness from that corner.   
But him and Daryl, they had been close, had been friends and allies for the longest time and if anything, Rick had always ever wanted to do right by Daryl – and he had, until just recently. His words and actions lately must have hit the archer like a bolt out of the blue – and they probably hurt worse than anything Merle or Will Dixon ever did to him. 

      “It’s not like that, Daryl”, he desperately tried again. “I really cared for Jessie and Michonne when I was seeing them. I’m not the kind of man, who uses people or trifles with relationships, you know that. But in the back of my mind there … there was you, all the time, and I couldn’t understand why.   
It didn’t scare me and it sure as hell didn’t disgust me, either. It just confused me. But then, last night, when I saw what Negan’s men had done to you and when I thought Negan had… that you … that I’d lost you … That’s when I _knew,_ when it all fell into place. And I decided there and then, that I wanted this, that it felt _right_ and that I just had to … just had to let you know.”   
He pulled in another shuddering breath.  
      “I know, Michonne died just a few hours ago. I know, it was the most inconsiderate thing to do, to make a pass on you so soon after her death. But … things didn’t look too good, Daryl. Harlan didn’t quite say it out loud, but he more or less told me to brace myself for losing you, too.”   
He felt tears pool in his eyes all of a sudden.  
      “I couldn’t let you go without telling you. Couldn’t bear the thought, that you may never know. I just wanted you to know that you matter, that you’re important, that you’re not _just a Dixon_ to me …And no matter what, Daryl, please, don’t let this destroy our friendship. I can’t deal with all this crap without you. “

Rick broke off and swallowed hard against the tears that were threatening to choke him.   
Daryl didn’t move. He still lay with his back turned to Rick and there wasn’t the slightest indication what he was thinking, how he felt, if he even listened to the other man’s words at all.   
It remained completely silent for a while, then Daryl slowly turned back around and cast Rick a scrutiny.  

      “Yer crying again? Man, looks like it’s definitely gonna be me wearing the pants in our relationship, ya li’l pussy.” 

Rick’s eyesbrows rose to his hairline and his mouth gapped open, while he looked into Daryl’s eyes. The teasing sparkle in them was conspicuous and Rick let out a relieved sigh.  
There was actually only one word that had really registered. _Relationship._ Did Daryl mean _that_ kind of relationship? Was it true then – did he read the signs right after all?   
      Again Rick ran his hands through his hair, which had the archer cast him a frown.

      “Ya had better stop that or yer gonna end up bald pretty soon. Would be a pity. Got a soft spot for them curls.”

A tiny smile tugged at Rick’s lips. Their silent communication obviously worked again and Daryl was tossing more breadcrumbs for him to find the way, to cross that bridge between them. If there had been the slightest doubt still in the back of Rick’s  mind just a moment ago, what kind of relationship Daryl had been talking about, _now_ he knew. 

      “I wish ya weren’t catching on so slowly, Grimes”, Daryl commented drily. “Merle used ta shove ma head down the toilet for saying sappy shit like that just now.” 

Rick’s smile widened.

      “Yeah, but Merle isn’t here and actually I’ve got a soft spot for _sappy shit_.”

      “Was afraid, ya’d say that. Don’t hold yer breath.” 

Again there was silence between them, but it wasn’t the awkward kind of silence anymore. It was the kind that used to be between them, before things had gone south. The silent communication of their souls, that rendered words useless.   
      For a long while they just looked at the other, lost in each other’s eyes. Then a yawn, Rick was unable to stifle any longer, broke the magic and had Daryl arch up an eyebrow. 

      “I’m boring ya?” 

Rick shook his head wearily. 

“Sorry. It’s just …”

“I was kidding. Ya don’t have ta tell me it’s been a rough night.”

With an earnest air he patted the space next to him invitingly, getting a questioning look from Rick in return that said “Are you sure?” 

Daryl couldn’t help sighing.

      “Rick …”

The warning inflection again, the well-known way for Daryl to say his name – so familiar, so … _Daryl_ , that Rick felt as though that one single word wrapped him up in a warm and comfortable blanket of security.   
He took off his shoes and socks, while Daryl lifted the covers just slightly for Rick to be able to crawl under. For a second this had Rick cast him another questioningly look, but it was dismissed quickly, before Daryl even had a chance to say anything.  
With a deep, content sigh Rick dropped back into the pillows and stretched his legs and aching back, all the while totally aware of Daryl wrapping the covers around him gently, before settling back himself.   
They lay side by side, not touching, not looking at each other. Just listening to the other one’s breathing for a while.   
Then Daryl probed cautiously:

      “Yer sure of this?”

Rick turned his head and looked at him, not answering right away, but listening to the echo of his own emotions. _Are you sure of this?_  
Daryl was giving him a way out, if there should have been doubts after all. This was the crossroads, the moment to make a decision – after that, there was no turning back. Not without a price to be paid. If he started something here and now, he had better be sure, because if he hurt Daryl again, he would lose him – entirely. His friendship, his trust, his love, his devotion – _him._  
The way the mere thought of that had his heart start to ache instantly, was all the answer he needed.

      “Yes. I’m sure.”

      “Thought ya was straight.”

Rick turned his head and stared at the ceiling.

      “I don’t know what I am anymore. I thought, I was a good leader, a good father and a good friend as well, but turns out I suck in all respects. I just know how I feel and I don’t care what the label is. – You just gotta be patient with me. This is …”

      “Unknown territory?” 

Rick’s lips twitched.

      “Yeah.”

      “No sweat, Rick. It’s pretty much unknown territory to me, too.”

The younger man’s head whipped around and he looked at Daryl with wide eyes. The archer noticed the confused air on his friend’s face and could barely refrain from rolling his eyes.

      “Pff, man, not what yer thinking. Ain’t no virgin, if that’s what yer wondering about. Just … just never had a relationship, ‘s all. Had ma _encounters_ , but love was never involved.”

That revelation didn’t overly surprise Rick, but his heart went out to Daryl nevertheless. Whatever he had learned about the way Daryl had lived before, it spoke of an entirely lonesome and bleak existance. How could anybody even live like that? How could anybody live like that and still turn into a gem like Daryl Dixon?   
Rick inched closer to the other man, gently touching his shoulder to Daryl’s. His first impulse had been to reach for the archer’s hand once more, but the last thing he meant to convey was pity. That was unlikely to be appreciated.   
This gentle physical contact and the intention behind it, brought a tiny smile to the older man’s face though, and he cast a glance to the side. 

“Thanks.”

“It’s what we do”, Rick answered, winking at Daryl with a warm smile on his face. 


	11. Chapter 11

  
They fell silent again and both sets of blue eyes were getting heavier by the minute. Sleep was about to claim them, they were aware of that, and they both needed rest badly, but they fought to stay awake for a reason unknown to either one.   
An inner restlessness kept them awake, as though there were things left unsaid or left undone that needed to be settled _now_ , because maybe there was no time anymore later. Maybe there was yet another unknown threat lurking right outside the window. Maybe a new disaster was looming right here and now. They were unable to put their finger on it.

Rick had closed his eyes in order to relax, but now he opened them again and found himself looking straight into Daryl’s.

       “Thought ya was gonna sleep.” 

       “Can’t.” He looked at his friend probingly for another long moment. “You’re gonna be okay, right?” 

Daryl pulled a face just slightly. 

       “Still afraid I was gonna die on ya, while yer asleep?” 

Rick swallowed hard and looked down, as though he was ashamed to admit that Daryl had been right on. 

       “Hey”, the archer said gently, “’m fine. Ain’t goin’ nowhere. Promise.” 

       “Don’t promise anything you may not be able to keep.” 

       “Worrywart”, Daryl teased softly. “I got gallons of Grimes blood in me. If that ain’t killin’ me, nothin’ will.” 

A grin spread over Rick’s face and he lifted his eyes to look at Daryl again, when he noticed a thoughtful air coming to the archer’s face.

       “Darn. All of them Grimes blood is making us blood brothers now, right?”

Rick couldn’t help laughing.

       “Technically, yes.”

       “So, if I was ta kiss ya now, does that pass as incest?” 

An amused frown moved Rick’s features.

       “I really worry about the way your mind works sometimes. Whatever …”

       “What I worry about”, Daryl cut in while he inched closer, “is the speed at which yers works. Ya haven’t heard the essential words at all, have ya?”

And before Rick even had a chance to answer, he brought their lips together, gently pecking Rick’s mouth with a chaste first kiss, before pulling back to see the reaction. Might just as well be that _he_ was going to be shoved out of this bed now.   
Rick had felt electrified, when Daryl’s lips had touched his and his heart was racing as though he had just run a mile. Although he had even wanted to steal a kiss earlier, when Daryl had been unconscious, the worry hadn’t quite ceased that it might feel _wrong_ when it finally did happen. That worry had evaporated just now. _Right_ didn’t even begin to describe the feeling – _perfect_ was more like it.   
The next second he tenderly brushed one of the long strands of Daryl’s hair out of the other man’s face, before entanging his fingers in it and gently pulling Daryl’s head forward for another kiss. This time it wasn’t quite as chaste, both of them only too wilingly deepening it the moment their lips touched again.   
Rick was fascinated by the sensation of kissing another man. This was so different from anything he’d ever experienced before. The lips were soft, but the stubbles on Daryl’s unshaved face scratched his own just slightly, the body that pressed to his was more solid and muscular than that of a woman, the scent not sweet, but musky and a mixture of smoke, leather and sweat. This was so Daryl. So different. So right. 

When they finally broke apart with the need to breathe, Rick wrapped his arm around Daryl, cautious not to hurt his shoulder, and pulled him closer, resting his forehead against his.   
He didn’t say anything, held his eyes closed and just endulged in the sensation of having Daryl this close by. He heard him breathe, felt the heat radiate from his skin, felt the strong muscles tense beneath his palm.   
The latter in fact had Rick open his eyes again and look probingly into the other man’s eyes.

       “You okay? Does this make you feel uncomfortable?” 

       “Dunno”, Daryl answered honestly and Rick released him instantly and pulled back a little.   
       “Sorry”, the archer said and looked away. “It’s just … I ain’t used ta physical contact with men that don’t entail pain.”

There was no need to say anymore, to offer any detailed explanation – Rick got the picture. Daryl’s father, the said _encounters_ and probably even Merle – in whichever way Daryl had ever been touched by a man, he got hurt.     
An immense fury washed over Rick and in right that moment he would have loved to get a hold of each and every one of those men to show them just what pain was. 

       “I won’t …”, Rick started softly and almost instantly Daryl cut in.

       “I know.” 

He breathed in deep to add some more, but Rick was faster.

       “Good.”

That’s all he said, but the gentle smile that accompanied that one word told Daryl all he had to know.   
       _“Your pace. Your call. Whichever way you wanna play it, I’m okay with it.”_

Daryl just gave a curt nod, his insecurity and embarrassment palpable, which had Rick secretly clench one hand. 

          _He’s a very troubled young man, isn’t he?_

That’s what Rose had said and back then, Rick hadn’t given it too much thought. But right now, he realized that she’d been right. But therapists were rare these days, so lots of love, patience and time would have to do to have Daryl’s wounds heal and the scars fade. And maybe it would.

       “Best get some rest now”, Rick suggested softly, not just because he was aware of the fact that they were both exhausted, but also to give Daryl a way out of this apparently awkward situation.   
The archer nodded wordlessly once more, a grateful air on his face. The next moment that was replaced by a frown and unexpectedly he said:

       “Do me a favor, Rick. –Take that shirt off, will ya?” 

Rick’s eyes widened and this remark clearly took him off guard. After their exchange just a second ago, this was the last thing he’d expected. Before he was able to reply, Daryl continued gravely:

       “It’s last night’s – got blood, sweat and tears pretty much all over it. Best burn it.”

Rick knew exactly how he felt; what he was aiming at. This wouldn’t be the first shirt to get burned – not only because it was in fact covered in blood, sweat and tears, but because horror and doom stuck to it as well. Discarding of a piece of clothing and even burning it after a gruesome twist of fate, had become a ritual to him, a cleansing action that symbolically freed him of the experienced evil, had him breathe freely once more – and move on. 

Without a word, Rick took the shirt off and tossed it as far away as possible, before he lay back down and audibly pulled in a deep, relieved sigh. 

       “Good thought”, he said softly. “I’ll take it to her grave and burn it there. She would have like that.” 

       “Yeah, far more than laundry duty and having ta clean shirts like that. Bet ya, if she’d had her way, she woulda burned all our dirty clothes instead of washing ‘em.” 

That remark had Rick chuckle despite of him.

       “Especially yours. She said, you were giving her flees.” 

Suppressing a grin, Daryl snorted in fake dismay.

       “That’s what people say ‘bout their dogs, too, and still they love ‘em.”

Rick cast him a gentle glance.

       “Yes, they do.” 

With a frown Daryl returned the glance, but Rick had closed his eyes with a content sigh, hoping to finally be able to sleep. He was just about to doze off, when he felt Daryl’s shoulder touch his as the archer inched closer to him. For a moment he just lay like that, unmoving, as though he was waiting if the contact triggered any kind of reaction from Rick.    
The younger man suppressed a smile, while he pretended to be asleep, curious where this was headed. When he didn’t move, Daryl obviously considered it safe to add the length of his arm to the initiated contact, followed by his fingers brushing gently against Rick’s. Eventually his knee and a foot grazed Rick as well. Then Daryl lay still, breathing softly – until he suddenly said:

       “Know ya ain’t sleepin’. Don’t have ta pretend ya was.” 

Rick opened his eyes and slowly turned his head.

       “How did you know …”

       “Rick”, Daryl’s voice sounded as though he was talking to a child and had to muster all the patience he possessed, “I’ve been sleeping next to ya far too many times not ta know when yer just pretending. – This okay with ya?”

       “Hell, yeah”, the younger man teased, copying Daryl’s slang, which earned him a shove of Daryl’s elbow. 

Rick couldn’t help chuckling.

       “Shoving me again, huh? You like to play rough, don’t you?”

       “No. Actually I don’t”, Daryl replied gravely and had the smile drop off Rick’s face.

He wanted to apologize, but reconsidered quickly. He was treading on thin ice as it was and each word further could have it break, so he best kept his mouth shut now. Some things had better left untouched.    
Gently Rick’s pinky stroked Daryl’s once, before he turned his hand around, palm up, and waited. As he had hoped, Daryl placed his hand on his just a moment later, interlacing their fingers and giving it a gentle squeeze.    
It was quiet for a while, then Daryl said drowsily, half asleep:

       “Somebody comes in now, cat’s gonna be outta the bag.”

       “I guess. Would have liked to talk to Carl first, but we can’t very well bar the door now. Maybe we’ll be lucky.” 

His speech was slurred as well, exhaustion taking its toll on both of them now. 

       “So ya wanna keep the lid on it?” Daryl ask, his inflection not giving away whether he approved of that or not. 

       “Just for the time being. Till that Negan thing is settled. Don’t need any more confusion. – You okay with that?”

Daryl gave a confirmative grunt.

       “Sure. Been good at keeping secrets. Sure gonna be good _being_ one for a change.”

It was impossible to tell, whether Daryl meant it or if this was a sarcastic remark and Rick was too tired to ponder on it. He turned his head and placed a tender kiss on Daryl’s temple, before he closed his eyes to finally get some sleep. 

       “She understood why I had to do it”, Daryl said unexpectedly, having Rick reopen his eyes with a sigh. 

       “Who?” His mind was clearly not able to process riddles at this point.

       “Michonne. She understood. And maybe she was the only one. – Just thought you should know.”

This got Rick’s attention despite of his fatigue and he looked at Daryl with a confused frown.

       “Understood what?”

       “Why I went after Dwight. Why I _had_ to do this.” He averted his eyes and pulled in a deep breath. “Remember how she did the same back then – tryin’ ta track down the governor? ‘twas because he killed Andrea and she didn’t stop him in time, although she’d had the chance. She had ta settle this. Had ta make him pay. I got that. Told her I’d be right out there with her, if that trail hadn’t run cold. She didn’t forget. Pretty much told me the same out there. That she was gonna help me quare things with Dwight. Same story. He killed Denise and I didn’t stop him in time to prevent it. He has ta pay.” His voice sounded choked with anger now. “No one understood back then, why she had ta try huntin’ down that bastard – ‘cept me. And she returned the favor.”

       “It’s not like I wouldn’t understand, Daryl. I just don’t think it’s worth the risk.”

       “And that’s why ya _don’t_ understand.”

Rick sighed.

       “Why are you telling me this now?”

Daryl looked at him again.

       “Just so you know … her and I, we was friends. Got along. Did things for each other. Had more in common than … you. I ain’t glad that she’s dead and as long as the two of you was happy with each other, ‘twas fine with me. Tough pill ta swallow, but I never hated her or anything. – Gonna burn ma fucking shirt right there with ya.”

Rick swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. He was amazed how Daryl never ceased to surprise him, no matter how many times he thought he’d seen his true colors. There were still new shades and nuances to discover.    
He was at a loss for words, not sure Daryl wanted him to say anything at all anyhow. It was quiet, while Rick couldn’t help thinking about Daryl’s words. 

       _We had more in comman than … you._

Yes, they had. They were both strong, independent natures, rough on the outside, but soft and vulnerable within, both scarred by experiences in the past, both fighting their own demons on a daily base. And yet there were differences all the same.    
       Michonne had followed her path, determined, never faltering, never giving in. She had given others dominion over her life once and she had never stopped regretting it; had her mind set on never allowing anyone to get too close ever again. No one was ever going to take the least of what was hers. And she had encouraged Rick to think that way, too, which at the time had added fuel to the flame.   
Rick wondered, if she would have stood back and let him find happiness with Daryl, not interfering, not speaking up, not begrudging Daryl his luck, if tables had been turned.    
That was the difference between them. There was no light without darkness. No courage without fear. And no strength without weakness. And Daryl combined them all – darkness, fear and weakness – and came out on top. He was able to step back, to have someone else take the lead, to follow, if he trusted that person enough. And Daryl didn’t trust easily, so him following Rick was an award and Rick knew it.    
And Daryl was able to put the well-being and happiness of someone he deeply cared for before his own. It was this selflessness that clearly distinguished those two. 

       G _reater love hath no man than to lay down his life for his friends._

He didn’t know, who had said these words once or where he had heard or read them. In the back of his mind he remembered them being a quote from the Bible, but he had never been a man religious enough to tell for sure. But whoever came up with that line – they were right.   
The night with the claimers crossed Rick’s mind. The night Daryl had been willing to lay his life down for him. A memory that had Rick’s stomach cramp up painfully each time it popped up.

       “That’s the one thing I never want you to do for me”, he whispered to the other man, not even aware of the fact, that he was speaking his thoughts out loud. “To die for me, that’s the one thing I never want you to do. Promise me that.”

There was no reply. When Rick looked closely at Daryl’s unmoving features, he noticed that the archer had fallen asleep.    
His face was still way too pale and the way he lay totally still next to him had Rick pull in a shuddering breath. He bent over and placed a tender kiss on Daryl’s forehead.

       “You wouldn’t have promised, even if you’d heard me.”

It wasn’t a question.    
For a while Rick just looked at the other man’s relaxed and even peaceful face, until he felt his eyes grow heavy once more. For a second he considered locking the door after all, but his legs wouldn’t move, his entire body was way too heavy to get out of bed and he didn’t want to move from his cosy and warm spot for the life of him. On the contrary.   
Gently, in order not to wake Daryl, he disentangled his fingers from the archer’s grip and then cautiously slipped his arm underneath Daryl’s head, pulling him close. He rested his hand on Daryl’s dark hair, stoking softly for a moment, before he just let his hand rest gently on the dark strands in a protective gesture. As soon as the archer woke up, he would probably give him a piece of his mind for this, but Rick couldn’t help it. This now was something _he_ had to do. Keep Daryl close, keep him safe, make sure he kept on breathing, make sure he knew Rick was there. And somehow, in the back of his mind, Daryl seemed to know already, because his head lolled to the side to rest on Rick’s shoulder, while he subconsciously snuggled up to him.  
A smile tugged on Rick’s lips before only seconds later sleep had claimed him as well.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a beautiful drawing of a very talented lady here: http://beitae.tumblr.com/  
> which inspired this scene. 
> 
> Take a look. You will know it, when you see it and this is how I pictured them here. I cannot repost the picture, because the artist requested no reposting, but it's worth seeing.


	12. Chapter 12

  
After Rick had disappeared into Daryl’s room, Rose had remained in her spot a while longer, smiling to herself. 

       _“They gonna work it out”,_ she had tried to convince herself, wondering for a moment, why that was important to her at all.  
She hardly knew these men. In fact, she had only met them last night, but there was something about them, a tinge of tragedy, something that prompted her empathy – it sure wasn’t just the fact that they both had fascinating blue eyes.   
The elderly woman had to grin about that thought, when the door to Maggie’s room opening behind her caught her attention. 

       _“Speaking of blue eyes …”_

Jesus closed the door behind him and with a deep sigh walked up to her.

       “I need to talk to Rick”, he said matter of factly. 

       _“Here we go again.”_

       “Paul Rovia, which part of ‘Rick needs rest’ did you not understand?”

He couldn’t help sighing again.

       “Rose, there really is trouble ahead …”

       “You bet there is”, she cut in, “and I know exactly that you are referring to Negan and his gang of douchbags. But let me tell you one thing clearly now – if you boys wanna start another war out there, you’ll need the leader of each group strong and capable to think straight. And Rick is neither right now. I can write it down for you, if that’ll help you all remember: Rick – needs – rest! _Now._ Period.” 

With wide eyes Jesus raised his hands defensively. 

       “I got it. Wasn’t gonna be a long conversation. He just needs to know that his group is planning to return to Alexandria today, in case that _gang of douchbags_ was planning an attack or something. They need to be warned there.”

She looked at him sternly.

       “Fine with me, but Maggie is too sick to leave, so she’s not going anywhere and I doubt Glenn will, if she’s staying. Same goes for Daryl. No way he’s gonna go anywhere today or tomorrow. And he … we need Rick here. In case Daryl needs more transfusions,” she added quickly, having Jesus cast her the same suspicious glance he had cast Aaron earlier.   
       “In any case, Rick knowing about the rest of the group leaving, isn’t gonna make a difference, right?”

Jesus looked at her in confusion.

       “Paul, they wanna leave and they got a good reason to. Whether you bother Rick with those news now or not, isn’t gonna change matters. So take a hike and bother him later. If they need a kiss good-bye from him first, they will have to wait a couple of hours till he had his rest. We won’t lose the war over Rick Grimes having a couple of hours of sleep. And if they insist on leaving right now, well, don’t let the door hit them on the way out.”

The young man just stared at the nurse with wide eyes, then he shrugged, visibly suppressing a chuckle.  
        
       “Guess, you’re right.”

       “You bet I am.”

This time he did chuckle.

       “I’ll _bother_ Rick later then. Right now, I need to go _bother_ Gregory and fill him in.”

       “You do that. _Him_ you can bother all you want, but don’t let him know I said that.”

With a grin Jesus made the gesture of his mouth getting sealed with a zipper, before he turned on his heels and walked away, shaking his head to himself.   
Indecisive what to do next, Rose stood in the corridor for a moment longer, before she decided to head down to the kitchen and fetch her patients some more juice and something light to eat, before she checked in on them again.   
She would have needed some rest herself, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to even sit still, unless she knew how things between Daryl and Rick had worked out. But they needed time. Rick still being in there probably was a good sign – hopefully it meant they were on speaking terms again.   
        
       _“Or they killed each other”,_ she couldn’t help thinking, dismissing the ridiculous thought in the same moment.

She knew, getting them food wasn’t really essential right now, but giving them time, was.   
When she came back half an hour later, she stood in front of the door for a long moment, just listening. There wasn’t a sound to be heard from within, which she considered yet another good sign – at least they weren’t yelling at each other or tossing things.   
          Cautiously she opened the door and stuck her head in, a wide smile spreading over her face a second later. As quietly as only possible she tiptoed over to the bed, which wasn’t a task easily done for a sturdy person like herself, and placed the tray she was carrying gently on the bedside table. Then she just stood there and took in the sight before her, barely able to refrain from giving a moved “Awwww”. The way Rick held Daryl protectively in his arm, while the two of them lay snuggled up to each other, fast asleep, must have been the cutest thing she had seen in all her life.

       _“God, I wish, I had a camera.”_

Obviously the two of them had worked things out and neither her food, nor her presence was needed here at the moment. She would have liked to stay and just look at this endearing sight a while longer, but she felt like she was intruding.   
       _“And you_ are _, Rose.”_  
This was personal, intimate even, and she had absolutely no business being here. In fact, no one had better walk in on them, she pondered silently, almost 100% certain that nobody knew about the turn this relationship had taken just recently. And they best had not find out about it this way. 

       _“Alright, Rose, time to stand sentry, right now”,_ she commanded herself.

Quietly she grabbed the chair that had been sitting next to the bed, cast one last look at the peacefully asleep couple and then just as quietly left the room. She pulled the door close behind herself, placed the chair right out front and sat down with a determined grunt. 

       _“Anybody wants to go in there, has to get past me first.”_

She couldn’t help grinning about that thought.   
The peace didn’t last for long. Only few seconds after she had taken up her post, Jesus appeared at the top of the stairs and came walking down the corridor towards her.   
When he had reached her, he looked at her questioningly without saying a word, then his eyes moved to the door and returned to the elderly woman with a knowing air on his face.

       “They are in bed together again, right?” 

She looked up and cast him a chiding glance.

       “Paul Rovia, I told you before to get your mind out of the gutter. They are _asleep_ and not to be disturbed.”

He shrugged.

“Uh-huh. And I haven’t implied anything else, have I?”

She gave him a scrutiny, then a teasing smile appeared on her rosy cheeks.

“Are you jealous?”

“Pfff.” He waved the comment off and then added: “Hell … yes”, which had her   
giggle despite of herself.  
       “You know me, Rose, still looking for the right guy out there and … Daryl’s cute.”

She cocked her head, suppressing another giggle.

       “From what I heard, he tried to beat the shit out of you more than once.”

His eyes grew large, due to her choice of words as well as to the fact that people obviously knew about his first encounter with Rick and Daryl. He wondered, which one of them was the chatterbox that had given the details away. 

       “Ah, you know the saying – teasing is a sign of affection.”

       “Punching you on the nose is hardly teasing, dear. And I hate to break the news to you, but Daryl’s _taken_.”

“I know.” He sighed. “Well, at least I had some time in the backseat with him.”

She gave him a “try again” kind of smile, when his ambiguous remark didn’t hit home at all.

       “Word has it, that you were unconscious.”

A grin spread over his face.

       “Got hit by a car door not shot with a tranqualizer gun. Have you ever seen anyone unconscious for _hours_ , unless they were dead?”

Her smile widened as well.

       “Tricky little bastard.”

       “Yeah, just not a lucky one. Lucky bastard is Rick.”

“They’re both lucky, I’d say.” She gave his leg a gentle slap. “Better luck next time, Paul.”

“Yeah, probably the day you’re gonna call me Jesus.”

This had her chuckle hysterically. 

 

Hours later Daryl slowly opened his eyes after a long and refreshing sleep –  undisturbed by danger, nightmares or any kind of attack – and found himself looking straight into a pair of shining blue eyes. 

       “Ya been watching me?” 

Rick shrugged, while a smile played around his lips.

       “Guilty as charged.”

       “Man, that’s creepy.”

       “Why? You look like an angel, when you’re asleep. Don’t know what the heck happens each time you open your eyes.”

       “Got people annoying the hell outta me, that’s what happens.”

They tried to stare each other down, none of them able to win the silent battle. In the end wide grins spread over both faces and rolling his eyes, Daryl shook his head.

       “What have I gotten maself into?” 

Rick couldn’t help laughing.

       “You know the saying – be careful what you wish for.”

A worried frown moved over his face a second later, when he saw Daryl’s features turn into a stony façade. The archer averted his eyes and stared blankly ahead of himself, having Rick’s frown even increase. 

       “What is it?”  

At first Daryl didn’t answer, then he breathed in deep and finally said:

      “Gonna tell ya something now. It’s kinda sappy stuff, so I ain’t saying this twice.”    
He made a pause and still did not look at Rick when he continued.    
      “Back when I was a kid, I never had any birthday parties and I never got anything from Santa. When I got older, I heard what people said about me, ‘bout  us … ma family. Sounded pretty much as though they couldn’t decide which was worse – the plague or a Dixon. Was a draw, I guess. So I figured, I just didn’t deserve presents and after that, I didn’t bother making wishes anymore.”    
He swallowed hard.    
      “’Cept for one. Figured even a Dixon was entitled to one single wish and I … dunno, made that one ages ago and kinda held on to it.”

Daryl fell silent and Rick waited patiently for him to continue. It was unusual for Daryl to say this much in one go and him talking about emotional things like these was a thing unheard of. So whatever the archer felt he needed to tell Rick, it had to be very important to him. But Daryl had to find his own pace, was unlikely to continue at all when he felt pushed, so Rick kept waiting silently.    
When Daryl picked up again, his voice sounded choked.

       “All I wanted was … one day. Wanted to be happy, just once, for one single day.” 

Rick felt a lump in his throat and struggled to swallow it down, while Daryl concluded:    
“Man, took way over forty years ta come true, but it finally did.”    
He turned his head to look at Rick.    
“Thanks to you. Just thought ya oughta know how much this … _you_ mean.”

At a lack for words, his eyes suspiciously shiny, Rick reached over to wrap his arm around Daryl, but reconsidered in the last second, opting to only place a gentle hand on the archer’s shoulder.

       “It’s not gonna be just one day, I promise you that”, he whispered. “This is just the first day of many.”

He leaned in slowly to place a tender kiss to the side of Daryl’s head, before pulling back again.   
The archer’s blue eyes looked at him calmly and the ghost of a smile flashed over his face, before he got hold of Rick’s wrist and tugged at his arm to have the other man wrap it around him the way he had intended to.    
They looked at each other silently for a moment, then Daryl’s eyes narrowed all of a sudden.

       “By the way, I ain’t taking any more blood from ya.” 

The change of topic took Rick totally by surprise and with a stunned frown he sat up.

       “What? Why? You need at least one more transfusion.”

       “Yeah, but no more of them Grimes blood. Look at me, man, am turning into a pussy like you, talking about sappy emotional crap and all.  Damn romance novel.” 

Rick couldn’t help laughing.

       “You’ll get used to it.”

       “Doubt that.”

He shoved the covers away and rolled away from Rick, struggling to get up, which had Rick look at him with a puzzled air. Daryl knew it was there without even looking.

       “Gotta go take a piss, Rick. Relax.”

       “Need a hand?” 

This time Daryl did look at him, eyebrows raised, while the ghost of a smirk tugged at Rick’s lips.

       “Good one, Grimes.” Daryl admitted after a moment. “I’ll take a raincheck on that offer some other time.”

He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, waiting for a sudden dizziness to pass after he’d been laying down for the most part of a day, and then walked to the adjoining bathroom with still somewhat unsteady steps.    
When he reached the door he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

       “How’s that arm?”

Incomprehension was written all over Rick’s face.

       “The one ya pushed under ma head and messed up ma hair with.”

       “Messed up your … “ Rick didn’t finish the sentence and opted for clearing his throat. He thought it best to keep his mouth shut about Daryl’s general appearance and rather try a more subtle approach.   
       _“Gonna push him into Alexandria’s pond occasionally.”_

The thought almost had him grin, but Daryl’s intense gaze distracted him. 

“Thought you were asleep.”

       “Learned ta sleep with one eye and ear open. Saved our lives more than once.”

Rick pressed his lips together.

       “Right.” He wiggled said arm once and then said softly. “Needles and pins, but it was worth it. Sorry, if …”

       “Hey, said I ain’t used to it. Didn’t say I don’t like it.” 

That said he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving a stunned Rick Grimes behind. 

Daryl took longer in the bathroom than to be expected and Rick was just getting worried, when the door opened again and the archer came back into the room. A scent of soap engulfed him and he had obviously even washed and combed his hair.    
Rick’s eyes grew as large as saucers.

       “Hey, who the hell are you and where’s Daryl?” 

       “Jackass”, came the gruff retort.

Rick laughed out loud.

       “Oh good, it _is_ you.”

He got out of bed, walked up to the other man and without even waiting for permission pulled him into a tight embrace, burying his nose in the still wet hair.

       “Smells good.” 

       “Yeah? Smell like a chick, man. Don’t get used to it.” 

Rick chuckled softly, but didn’t reply. The image of Alexandria’s pond in his mind’s eye had his grin widen behind Daryl’s back, while they just stood like that for a long moment.   
Rick tried to endulge in this moment. There was no telling when he would have a chance to hold Daryl like this again. If ever. There was a war ahead, a battle against Negan’s men that was inevitable. The outcome was unknown and Rick didn’t share Abraham’s optimism any longer. There would be casulties on either side. There always were. The victory in a war was never achieved without a blood price to be paid first.    
Rick pulled in a deep breath, inhaling Daryl’s scent – the soapy one as well as the unique one that lay underneath – and tried to memorize the sensation. The way it felt to hold this strong and muscular body pressed firmly against his slimmer one, the unexpected softness of the skin that was warm, almost hot …

With a start, Rick pulled back a little and looked at Daryl probingly.

       “You’re still running a fever, aren’t you?” 

Daryl rolled his eyes.

       “Ah, c’mon, Rick. Does the mother hen mode kick in again?” 

       “Shut up and lie down.”

A grin spread over Daryl’s face.

       “I like how you said that.”

This time it was Rick rolling his eyes and he raised his finger warningly before pointing at the bed. To his utmost surprise, Daryl complied without a further word.   
He let himself drop back into his pillows, instantly pulling a face and reaching for his shoulder.

       “Damnit, Daryl, your shoulder hurting again, too?”

       “Never stopped. Pain killer wore off a while ago.”

Almost angrily Rick threw his hands in the air.

       “Why didn’t you say anything?”

The archer’s expression darkened.

       “’cause I ain’t five years old and can handle pain, for Christ’s sake. Know how tough it is ta find meds these days and I ain’t eating pain killers, if it ain’t necessary.”

       “That is a shot wound, not a scratch.”

       “No shit, man.”

Their voices had picked up in volume and a moment later the door opened and Rose came in. 

       “What on Earth is going on in here?” 

       “Nothin’”, Daryl replied gruffly, earning another angry glance from Rick.

       “Yes, there is. He’s still running a fever and …”

       “Rick!”

       “And he’s in pain”, the younger man closed, totally ignoring the warningly usage of his name for once. “Got any pain killers you can spare?”

       “I ain’t taking any!” Daryl sounded genuinely annoyed. “Stop pampering me, Grimes, or I’m gonna kick yer sorry ass outta here again.” He turned to Rose. “Save them pills for someone, who really needs ‘em.” 

She saw the anger in Daryl’s eyes and the frustration in Rick’s and couldn’t help sighing audibly.

       “You kids behave right now!” she chided. She turned to Daryl. “We still got some pain killers and if you feel, like you need any after all, let me know. No reason to be brave – that’s a shot wound, not a scratch.”

He pulled a face.

       “Get me a t-shirt with that”, he muttered unintelligablely. 

Rose ignored him and turned to Rick.

       “I’ll get him some tea for the fever.”

       “Elderberries?” he asked, painfully reminded of the flu epidemic back in the prison. 

She  nodded with a surprised air on her face.

       “Exactly. Be right back.”

That said she left, leaving the two men alone once more. Rick walked over to Daryl’s side of the bed and let himself sink onto the edge, while the archer held his look stubbornly.

       “There’s something you need to know”, Rick started hesitatingly after a moment. “About that fever and … why I wanted you to take the pain killers.”

He stopped, uncertain if he should tell Daryl about the antibiotics now or not, but he had already started and the archer was looking at him expectantly.

       “Shoot.”

       “When we got here last night, Harlan told me that both you and Maggie needed antibiotics, but … but they pretty much ran out and there was only enough left for one of you.” Rick averted his eyes and pulled in a shuddering breath. “He made me choose.” His voice was thick with emotion and he fell quiet, hardly daring to look at Daryl.

       “So yer telling me Harlan made ya choose between me and Maggie, pretty much tellin’ ya the other one was unlikely ta make it?” 

Rick nodded.

       “And ya chose Maggie.”

The lump in his throat was almost choking the younger man now and he looked up with something close to despair.

       “What was I supposed to do? I mean, she …”

       “Hey”, Daryl’s inflection had Rick fall quiet, “if ya had decided any other way, I woulda kicked yer ass into next week.” He nudged Rick’s knee with an approving sparkle in his eyes. “And ‘cause I didn’t get them antibiotics, yer forcing pain killers, disgusting tea and Grimes blood into me come hell or high water, huh?”

A smile tugged at the corners of Rick’s mouth. 

       “Man”, Daryl added, “just lemme die with dignity.” 

Rick bent down and pecked the archer’s lips.

       “Won’t let you die at all. That’s why you’ll drink that tea like a good boy now, unless you wanna get force fed.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed.

       “Ya wouldn’t dare.”

Rick opened his mouth to reply, but Daryl was quicker.

       “ _Don’t_ say ‘try me’ now, Grimes.”

Rick closed his mouth again, smiling to himself. Then he got back up and looked around the room. 

       “Stay put and have some of that food …” He pointed to the bedside table, while he fell quiet with a frown, wondering for a moment just when that tray had made its way into the room. “I’m gonna go find us some clean shirts”, he concluded, heading for the door. 

       “Hey, Rick”, Daryl called after him and had the younger man turn around once more. “Try ta find me a pack of smokes, will ya.” 

Rick pulled a face.

       “Thought you wanted to die with dignity.” 

       “Yeah, either that or looking badass.”

       “Oh, man”, Rick rolled his eyes, “you probably even mean that. I’ll see what I can do.”

With that he opened the door and was out in the corridor a moment later.

       “I’m gonna find out, if ya ain’t really tryin’”, he heard Daryl call after him and couldn’t help grinning to himself.

He almost reached the stairs, planning to head for the RV where he knew they had a couple of clean shirts stashed, when someone rounded the corner and bumped right into him.

       “Jesus!” Rick exclaimed in surprise and saw a grin spread over the other person’s face.

       “You wouldn’t believe how many times a day I hear my name”, Paul joked.

       “Still isn’t yours”, a female voice sounded behind his back and had him pull a face. 

       “Rose, don’t you have anything else to do than haunt this corridor?”

       “Dito”, she retorted, while she past him, carrying a big mug of hot tea. Then she stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Rick.

Out of the corner of her eyes she noticed Jesus do the same.

       “Heatwave, Rick?”

A confused frown appeared on Rick’s face, but Jesus gesturing at his bare chest and feet had him realize that he was running about half naked. He shrugged.

       “Was gonna look for some clean shirts for Daryl and me. Think we got some in the RV.”

       “You will go back into that room right now and have something to eat and not go catch pneumonia”, Rose chided. “Paul’s gonna find you some shirts.”   
“Won’t you, dear?” she addressed Jesus syrupy. 

His eyes narrowed in fake dismay, but then he nodded.

       “Sure, but then I need to talk to you, Rick.”

Rick gave a curt nod and was just about to turn around to head back to Daryl and the mentioned food, when he cast a glance over his shoulder once more. 

       “Try find some cigarettes for Daryl, too, will ya?”

       “Like hell he will”, Rose replied in Paul’s stead. “No one’s killing himself with any cancer sticks on my watch.” 

       “But _you_ tell him that”, Rick said with barely hidden amusement.   



	13. Chapter 13

An hour later Rick and Daryl were hooked up for yet another transfusion, after they both had something to eat and Daryl had in fact managed to choke down the tea, although it ‘tasted like dishwater’.    
Rick wore a clean sand-colored shirt, someone even bothered to iron, while the black one Jesus had found for Daryl, was still sitting on top of a dresser for as long as there were still bandages to be changed regularily.    
Jesus had pulled up a chair and sat next to Rick, about to fill him in on his group’s decisions, while Rose sat on the other side of the bed, watching a sulking Daryl, who’d been anything but pleased with her decision to make this a non-smoking patient’s room. She could barely refrain from giggling, which earned her one or the other dark scowl every other moment. 

        “D’ya need ta be here?” Daryl asked gruffly after a while, which didn’t faze her in the least.

        “Absolutely.”

        “Ya ain’t ma mother.”

        “If I was, you would have gotten a spanking quite a while ago, young man.”

Across the bed she noticed the reaction in Paul’s eyes and the way he cast Daryl an almost pleading look as though he was saying “Dare her, Daryl”. 

        “Paul …” her inflection was warning. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to discuss with Rick?” 

Almost disappointed Jesus turned to Rick and repeated just what the group had planned earlier – first of all to fill Daryl in and secondly to make sure it hit home this time as far as Rick was concerned. Paul was quite sure that Rick may have been present during their earlier meeting, but he probably hadn’t even heard half of what was said.    
He closed with the words:

        “They think it best to return to Alexandria today, just in case Negan was gonna try an attack nevertheless. Most of your really skilled fighters are here and people in Alexandria need to get warned. So …”

        “They’re right”, Rick said matter-of-factly. “Whose idea was it?”

        “Brainstorming”, Jesus replied with a shrug. “They pretty much all participated. You got a strong group there. Wish things around here would be run more like a democracy rather than a dictatorship – it’s far more effective.”

Rick exchanged a look with Daryl. Things had not always been the way they were now. After Hershel’s farm had fallen and they had to take their chances out on the road, Rick had declared that ‘this wasn’t a democracy anymore’.    
The group had doubted him, had questioned his actions and decisions back then, and he had given them but one choice – see if you can do better without me or follow me unconditionally.   
In the end he had come to the conclusion, that carrying the load by himself was neither the easier, nor the better way. The burden of responsibility had almost broken him and each mistake was likely to cost lives. So he had reestablished a democracy, called in a counsil, so decisions concerning the entire group and its well-being weren’t just made by one man alone. And they still played it that way.    
But now the entire counsil was not in Alexandria.  Daryl, him, Morgan, Carol, Glenn, Maggie, Abraham, Sasha, Michonne …  Injured, absend, lost, dead … 

        “There isn’t one single member of the counsil left in Alexandria”, Rick said, rather thinking aloud than addressing anyone in particular, but he met Daryl’s eyes once more. “After you left, along with Michonne and Glenn … I took the rest of the entire counsil with me.” 

He sounded as though he was unable to comprehend his own actions and in fact, he hadn’t even realized the consequences until just now. 

        “New rule”, he said firmly, “at least three of the counsil need to stay back home at any time from now on.”

        “Triarchy, huh?” Daryl replied. “Sounds good, but even with that crazy bunch goin’ back today, there’s still gonna be only two of the counsil back home.” His expression darkened. “Face it, Rick, we lost Michonne and Carol, Maggie and Glenn are gonna stay here, Morgan may still be out there looking for Carol and the two of us … You should go back, too. Today” 

        “No.” Rick’s answer was quick and curt like a gun shot. When he noticed Daryl arch an eyebrow, he added quickly: “Can’t.” He pointed to the tube, twitching his arm just slightly to substantiate his statement.

          “C’mom, I ain’t no vampire. Ya need ta keep a few drops to yerself, so we oughta be ‘bout done with the transfusions.”

Rick looked past him and cast Rose a pleading look, which she understood right away.

        “I’m sorry, but at this point there is no telling, if you’ll need further transfusions or not. And whether or not Rick is to go anywhere, is entirely up to Harlan, so you may wanna consider announcing someone new to that counsil. If you lost two members permanently, you will have to replace them anyhow, so today’s as good a day as any.”

        “Besides”, Jesus cut in, “I heard a lot of good thoughts earlier from people that are obviously not on the counsil, so for the time being you shouldn’t have a problem with only two counsil members back in Alexandria. They got a lot of help there.” 

Rose cast him a thankful smile, knowing well that he was trying to dissipate Daryl’s concerns and give more reasons for Rick to stay. They were well aware that the possible need for more transfusions wasn’t really the reason why Rick refused to leave. 

Daryl shrugged.

        “’kay with me. Maybe we should even think about bringin’ some of the residents into the cousil. Tobin maybe. Spencer. Maybe even Gabriel.” 

Rick cast him a glance from the side.

        “Is that fever going up again?”

They both had to grin about that remark, before the amusement faded again. Rick turned back to Jesus.

        “Thanks for filling us in. I’d like to talk to Abraham real quick before they leave. Is Carl going with them?”

        “He was thinking about it. Said he wanted to take care of his sister – and a girl named Enid?” 

Rick’s eyebrows rose.

        “Enid, huh?”

        “They grow up so fast …” Daryl muttered next to him, a teasing undertone in his inflection, which had Rick cast him a wide-eyed glance.

        “Darn, I just hope Lori had _that_ talk with him.”

Jesus got up, slapping Rick’s shoulder heartily. 

        “I can send him in, if you want me to. Like Rose said – today’s as good a day as any.” 

He smirked when he noticed Rick turn pale first and then blush violently. 

        _Suits you right, Grimes”,_ he couldn’t help thinking. He cast a regretting parting look at Daryl and then headed for the door. “I’ll find Abraham and send him up. Comin’, Rose?”

She slapped her knees and then got up as well, stretching her aching back with a moan. There wasn’t anything to do for her here right now and she did need a break now, that much she had to admit to herself.    
        _“You’re growing old, girl.”_

          “Harlan is gonna check in on you boys soon”, she said with a nod towards the tube, before she headed for the door, too.  
Reaching it, Jesus stepped back with a gallant bow and gestured for her to go ahead.

        “After you”, he said with a smile. 

She cast him a frown.

        “Your middle name is ‘odd’, isn’t it, Paul?” 

        “Pff, whatever it is, I’m sure you wouldn’t call me by it.”

        “Sure I would. I’m calling you by your first name, too, am I not?”

        “Yeah, NOT. Told you, my name is Jesus.”

        “Is not.”

        “Is, too.”

        “Is not.”

        “Ah, get out of here”, he snapped and pushed the elderly woman out of the door. Before he vanished through it, too, he tossed an item he had secretly held in his hand in the direction of the bed without even looking, while he kept Rose enganged in their friendly little banter.

A second later the door fell shut behind them and their bickering voices disappeared down the corridor.    
With a wide grin Daryl reached for the item Jesus had tossed their way and held a pack of cigarettes in his hand the next moment.    
Rick winked at him.

        “And you were gonna put him up a tree.” 

        “Yeah, good thing ya had me reconsider.”

He pulled a cigarette out of the pack, smiled about finding a lighter right inside as well and lit his first smoke in days with a deep, relieved sigh. While he exhaled the smoke into the air with visible delight, Rick coughed and cast him an annoyed glance.

        “Oh yes, good thing I had you reconsider. Remind me to just listen to you next time.”

He wiggled his free hand in the air to fan the smoke away from him, while Daryl smirked inwardly.

        _“Here we go again.”_        

        

Abraham left that day to head back to Alexandria, along with Rosita, Sasha, Eugene, Aaron and Carl. They had _all_ marched into Daryl’s room shortly after Jesus had left there, checking in on both, Rick and Daryl, and saying their good-byes.    
The plan was decided upon – to hold still and sit tight when Negan showed up to simply claim supplies, to fight in case of an attack. Other than that, Rick and Daryl would head back home as soon as only possible and after that, Alexandria, the Hilltop and possibly the Kingdom would be on the warpath, as Rose would have put it.   
        Daryl’s recovery went way faster than to be expected and three days later he was back on his feet, the fever gone and the shot wound healing satisfactorily. Although no further transfusions had been needed after the day the rest of their group had left, Rick had stayed in Daryl’s room. 

As Rick watched the archer don the black denim shirt now – not without having ripped off the sleeves first of all – he felt a pang of regret.   
        It had been peaceful and even kind of carefree these past days in the Hilltop. There had been no decisions to make, no threat or danger had called for a fight, Daryl’s condition had improved visibly day by day and even Rose was deeply pleased with that, although “the smuggled in smokes had most certainly nothing to do with it”.    
She knew what caused the miracle. Saw the happy sparkle in both sets of blue eyes. Noticed the small, tender gestures both men tried to hide, but that were still _there_ , visible for everyone who looked closely enough – the brushing of their fingers against the other’s whenever they stood close; the way their shoulders touched when they walked side by side; the look into the other one’s eyes that lasted just that second longer than necessary; the smiles that seemed to play around their lips permanently now. And of course there were other signs that weren’t quite as easy to hide – like their kiss-swollen lips in the morning or the way Rick had buttoned up his shirt higher than necessary to hide the hickey on his neck. 

Up in their room, Rick had pulled on his boots and got up from the edge of the bed now with a deep sigh. Slowly he walked up to Daryl, wrapped his arms around the archer’s middle from behind and placed a tender kiss on his neck. 

        “Sure you’re feeling well enough to head back?” 

Daryl craned his neck and cast a glance at his boyfriend.

        “Yeah, according to Harlan I’m as good as new.”

        “I like the old one.”

        “Wanna run the _old_ part by me again?”

A grin spread over Rick’s face.

        “You know what I mean.”

        “Yeah. And I know why ya keep asking if I was _sure_ I was okay. Why don’t ya have a fainting fit from blood loss or something, if ya wanna stay?”

On any other day they may have laughed about this, but today wasn’t any other day. If fact, right in that moment Rick couldn’t help sighing once more.

        “Don’t you wish sometimes to be able to just … go the other way? You know, as far away from it all than possible.”

        “Run away, Romeo?” 

Rick placed his forehead heavily on Daryl’s shoulder and nodded.

        “Yes. Run away. Right now that sounds like a great idea. Just you and me. As far away as we can.”

        “Problem is, there’s no running away from _it all_ anymore _._ Wherever we go, it’s already there.”

        “Right”, Rick said sadly. 

        “And what about Carl and Li’l Asskicker?”

        “They are pretty much the reason, why we’re not gonna run away, but head home ASAP.”

Daryl turned around in his arms and had his fingers fork gently through Rick’s curls.

“Maybe once in a while, just for a day, we can sneak out and pretend.” He pulled the other man close and then whispered in his ear:    
“Only kind of pretending I still wanna do.”

Rick pulled back and looked him in the eyes questioningly. 

        “I’m tired of pretending”, Daryl added with a shrug. “It’s exhausting and annoying to pay attention all the time not ta say or do nothing that would give us away.”

The younger man had his arms drop to his sides and then started pacing up and down the room, while Daryl followed him with his eyes. After Rick had walked back and forth silently for the third time, the archer grabbed a pillow and tossed it forcefully at Rick’s head. 

        “Hey, don’t have ta say nothin’ so loud, ya dumbass. Yer worried about what people are gonna say? Ya embarrassed ‘cause of me? That why you’d rather run away?”

The next second the pillow hit him straight in the face when Rick tossed it back just as forcefully.

        “That a good enough answer, Dixon?”

The pillow came flying back before he had a chance to say any more and for the next five minutes, they were engaged in a fierce pillow fight. They weren’t laughing – it wasn’t meant to be a serious fight, but it wasn’t the humorous kind, either. They had something to settle, no more, no less.    
In the end, Daryl raised his hand defensively and signaled his surrender, before he pressed his palm against his aching shoulder, gritting his teeth.   
Rick dropped the pillow and hurried towards him instantly.

        “You alright?” 

        “Peachy. Thought pillow fights were supposed ta be funny. That’s bullshit, man.”

Rick cocked his head.

        “It’s more fun, if you don’t do them three days after you got shot.” 

        “Yeah, I keep that in mind next time.”

        “You wanna do a pillow fight again?”

        “Next time _I get shot_.” 

Rick flinched and his expression visibly darkened.

        “Why do you do that?”

        “Getting shot?”

        “Stop it, goddammit. Each time you get pissed off at me, you’re either close as a clam or you’re saying provocative shit like that just now. I _know_ you got shot twice, I know you got pierced by your own bolt, I know you got stabbed in the back, I remember each and every time it was way too close a call – you don’t have to remind me! What is it you want to achieve? If you’re out to hurt me, fine. It’s working. Happy now? For Christ’s sake, Daryl, if you’re angry because I’m still keeping the lid on our relationship, just say so! Talk to me. But don’t try to trigger a reaction by hurting me.”

Daryl looked at him deadpan.

        “Didn’t mean ta hurt ya”, he finally replied. 

        “Well, you did.” Rick breathed in deep to calm down. “Just stop. Lori used to drive me nuts with this. Assuming things, figuring she knew exactly what I thought and how I felt and then blaming me for it, before she had even talked to me. Before she knew, if she was even right.” He sighed. “She hardly ever was.”   
He looked Daryl straight in the eyes.  
        “Thought you can do better than her.”  
          
Daryl just returned the look quietly, having Rick sigh once more.

        “Clam”, he muttered to himself, before he said: “Do you really think I was embarrassed because of this?” He gestured with one hand between the both of them. “Do you really think, I didn’t want people to know and was planning on keeping _us_ a secret for the rest of our days?” 

Another silent moment passed between them, while Daryl just looked at him intensely. The scenario was familiar. The archer had always done that and so far, Rick had always felt good wrapped up in this silent communication. But this right now was more of a scrutiny down to the core of his being and it annoyed him.    
        _“Don’t you know my heart by now? Do you really still have doubts?”_

As though he had heard those questions – and maybe he had – Daryl shook his head just slightly.

        “Nah. Sorry, man. – Whatever ya say, goes.” 

Rick reached out and placed both hands gently on Daryl’s shoulders.

        “Just so you know, I wasn’t trying to figure out _if_ we were gonna tell the others, just _when._ But I guess, you’re right – it’s tiring to mind each word and gesture. We’ll talk to Glenn and Maggie before we leave and first thing back home, let me have a talk with Carl. After that, you can put up a proclamation at the church door, if you like.”

A smirk played around Daryl’s lips.

        “So you can just rip it off again? Way you always do?”

Rick grinned.

        “I stopped doing that, haven’t you noticed? Gabriel has changed and he’s been taking good care of Judith, so he’s allowed one or the other …”

        “Thing.”

        “Right.”

For a moment they just kept looking each other in the eyes, then Rick pulled Daryl into a tight hug.

        “Stop doubting”, he whispered to him.

        “Ain’t doubting ya”, Daryl replied.

        “No, stop doubting _yourself_. I will always be nothing but _proud_ to have you by my side, and I always was.”


	14. Chapter 14

  
Daryl returned the hug wordlessly for a moment. Then he said:

         “Just so ya know – ya do this in the middle of Alexandria’s plaza and ya gonna be nothing but _sorry_.” 

With a frown Rick pulled back. 

         “I mean it, Grimes. No smooching, hugging or holding hands in public. Ain’t no schmaltzy flick here. And keep yer paws off ma hair.”

Rick’s eyes widened.

         “Then what’s the difference to keeping a lid on it?”

         “Ya can show off yer hickey with pride”, Daryl grinned, before he leaned in and kissed Rick passionately. Then he stepped back and gave the younger man’s shoulder a hearty slap. “C’mon, we gotta get the show on the road before we lose the light.” 

That said he headed for the door, leaving a stunned Rick Grimes standing in the middle of the room with wide eyes, shaking his head to himself.

         _“I don’t know who, but someone created a monster”,_ he couldn’t help thinking, watching Daryl reach for the doorknob. 

In just that second someone knocked and a friendly female voice called from the outside:

         “Knock-knock, can I come in? Are you boys dressed?”

Daryl pulled the door open and gave Rose a meaningful look.

         “Since when does that stop ya?”

         “It doesn’t. Was a rhetorical question”, she giggled and brushed past him. “All set?” 

“Ain’t having trouble getting our suitcases closed, if that’s whatcha mean.” 

She cast a glance at Rick, who spread his arms with a smile, indicating that the clothes on their backs were pretty much all they owned, but she waved the comment off.

         “Wasn’t talking about any stuff and things”. She looked from one to the other. “There’s just people, who would like to see you, before you leave.” Her eyes grew suspiciously shiny. “Well, at least this _people_ right here.”

She pointed to herself with a shrug and in the next second Rick had taken a few steps forwards and pulled the elderly woman into a tight embrace.

         “Thank you”, he said softly to her. 

         “You’re welcome.”

He pulled back and she saw him exchange a look with Daryl behind her back, which brought a tiny smile to her face. His gratitude wasn’t just for any medical assistance she provided and she was well aware of that. 

         “Jesus is waiting down on the plaza for you.”

         “Jesus?” Rick asked with a smirk. 

         “Don’t tell him, I called him that”, she said impishly. “Then again – why not? I will just never call him that to his face. It’s driving him nuts.” She giggled. 

Daryl’s voice had her turn around.

         “And here that song runs there ain’t nobody meaner than the li’l old lady from Pasadena. They ain’t seen nothin’ yet in Pasadena.”

She just looked at him quietly, which caught him off guard and had him squirm uncomfortably after a moment. Slowly she closed the distance between them and raised her hand in slow motion to brush a stand of hair out of his face.

         “Hands off ma hair, lady”, he said half-heartedly.  

         “I should have cut it while you were sleeping”, she said softly. Before he had a chance to reply, she added: “Then again, no. It’s perfect that way. – It’s you.”

She didn’t hug him, just placed her palm to his cheek for a second, before turning around to Rick once more.

         “If you’re ever in the neighborhood and feel like a cup of delicious elderberry tea, you know where to find me”, she tried to joke, but the smile never quite reached her eyes. “You two take care of yourselves – and of each other.”

That said she walked out of the room without looking back and left two stunned men behind.  

Ten minutes later Rick and Daryl stepped out onto the front porch of the Barrington House, taking a long look around the plaza.    
They had stopped by Maggie’s room, but neither she, nor Glenn had been there, so they decided to go look for Jesus first, before they said their good-byes to head back to Alexandria.    
They spotted Jesus talking to Harlan in front of the doctor’s trailer and walked over to them, side by side and – unaware of it – perfectly in sync, which had Jesus grin widely as they drew nearer. 

         “What’s so funny?” Daryl snapped instantly, when he saw the smirk on the other man’s face.

         “Just happy to see you”, Jesus replied friendly as always, raising his hands defensively.

         “Yeah, I bet”, Daryl retorted. Something about this man was constantly ticking him off for a reason unknown even to himself. 

Rick rolled his eyes about the exchange, but let it pass without comment. Instead he turned to Harlan and extended his hand.

         “Came to thank you before we head home.”

         “Yeah”, Daryl cut in, “thanks, man. Ya saved ma life.”

A smile spread over the doctor’s face, while he shook hands with Rick.

         “Just returning the favor, Daryl. You saved mine first.”

         “Turned out ta be a good idea.”

Even shaking hands was something Daryl hardly ever did, but this time he chose to make an exception and extended his hand to Harlan as well. 

         “So, you’re set to head back to Alexandria?” Jesus tossed in.

         “Sort of”, Rick replied, “you got a car you can spare for a while? Or anyone, who can take us home?”

         “Actually, no, but I got something better.”

He motioned for them to follow him to a carport toward the side of the fence and on approaching it, pointed to it with a smile.  
Daryl stode past him, almost pushing him out of the way.

          “That’s ma bike!”

Rick suppressed a smile and cast Jesus a thankful look.

         “Thank God, you got him his baby back. That about saves the day.”

         “Ya best ain’t makin’ fun of me, Grimes”, Daryl called over his shoulder, while he almost tenderly ran a hand over the handlebars of his bike. “Ya get ta ride on this baby with me or yer gonna _walk._ ”

Rick pulled a face.

         “And now I’m not sure, which one’s the threat.”

Daryl ignored him and turned to Jesus.

         “How did ya know where ta find her?” 

         “Glenn showed me. He was out there with me yesterday to get it back. We figured you guys needed some means of transportation and you would appreciate getting your bike back.”

         “Figured right. Gotta thank our li’l pizza boy before we leave.” The appreciative look in his eyes vanished suddenly and he cast Jesus another piercing look.  
         “Did _you_ ride ma bike back here?”

The other man cast Rick a quick look, smiling inwardly, before he turned back to Daryl, slightly shaking his head.

         “No, wouldn’t dare. Glenn did.”

         “Good.”

Rick cocked his head and cast Jesus a look of his own. 

         “You know what they say about first impressions – you don’t get to make them twice. And you pretty much messed up, stealing our stuff back then.”

    “Yeah, like ma gun – and ya pointed that thing in ma face”, Daryl tossed in.

    “I wasn’t …”

         “And you destroyed Daryl’s soda pop”, Rick added, barely able to refrain from smirking.

         “Right. And that was important, ya prick. ‘twas a present,” Daryl hissed in Jesus face, dead serious about getting his matter settled. “And ya hit Rick, ya sonuvabitch.”

Rick cast him a surprised glance, actually touched that this seemed to be in any way important to Daryl, although Jesus dealt him a couple of blows just the same. 

         “Hey, look, guys”, Jesus tried to smooth ruffled feelings. “I really thought we were past that. We had a rough start, fact, but can’t we …”

         “Ya sunk our fucking truck, man.” 

Jesus stared at him for a second, pressing his lips together in order not to laugh, before he cast a glance to the side at Rick and saw him doing pretty much the same. In the next moment they both broke out in laughter.

         “Sunk our truck?” Rick chuckled, before Daryl’s killer scowl had him quickly compose himself again. “Come on, Daryl, just forget it, okay? The man’s right, that’s long water under the bridge and we need to work together here. Besides – he got you the bike back.”

         “Glenn did”, Daryl snapped stubbornly.

         “Daryl …” This time it was Rick using the warning inflection and he was surprised how that sounded. Obviously he had never used his boyfriend’s name in this inflection before.   
Daryl gave an annoyed snort.

         “Fine. Thanks … For helping _Glenn_ get ma bike back.”  

Rick shook his head, muttered something that sounded slightly like _li’l pighead_ and then turned to Jesus.

         “You know the plan. We’ll be in touch. As soon as the Saviors have paid us their visit, we’ll be back and I expect you to have that Ezekiel guy at the table by then.”

         “You got it. I’ll head over to the Kingdom first thing tomorrow morning.”  
          
         “Good. – You got any idea where we can find Glenn and Maggie?”

         “Yes,” Jesus turned around and pointed across the plaza. “They were over in the vegetable garden earlier. Maggie’s of great help, giving advice and passing her knowledge on and Harlan thinks it best for her to be outside and keeping herself busy.”

         “Ya having her dig holes in her condition?”

Jesus looked at Daryl, biting back the remark _“Do you even know how sexy that attitude is?”_ , that was on the tip of his tongue and shook his head with a mild smile.

         “No. She’s got the supervision and like I said, a tutorial job over there. Glenn’s doing the digging. His idea. Wanted to do his part.”

Rick gave Jesus a slap to the shoulder and then nodded in the pointed direction,  signaling Daryl to follow him over there. 

         “Be seeing you”, Jesus said as they walked away.

         “Yeah, nothing we can do about that”, Daryl muttered gruffly without turning, but the other man heard him and bit back a grin once more.  

They found Maggie and Glenn just where Jesus had said, Glenn busy planting some new tomato plants the way Maggie had shown him, while she sat on a small bench in the shade.    
When she noticed them approach, a wide smile spread over her face and she got up to greet them.

         “Hey, glad you stopped by before you left.”

Rick placed his hands gently on her shoulders and noticed with relief that she looked much better than three days ago. There was a healthy color back on her cheeks and a vivid sparkle in her eyes.

         “You look great”, he said with a smile, which had her cock her head.

         “Liar.”

         “If anything, he’s a charmer, no liar”, Daryl tossed in. “But in this case, he’s just right.”

         “So now you’re both charmers.” She laughed. “How’s your shoulder?”

         “Hurts like a bitch.” He noticed her smile vanish and made a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about it – got two of ‘em and the other one ain’t hurting, so it could be worse.” 

         “Hear ye, hear ye”, Glenn teased, “someone got a dose of optimism along with gallons of blood.”

         “Pfff, them Grimes blood sure as hell ain’t got nothing ta do with it. Got ma baby back. Thanks for getting her, man.” 

         “No big deal. – So, when are you leaving?”

         “’bout half an hour ago. That Jesus dude held us up with his gossip.”

Rick couldn’t help grinning.

         “Daryl’s really taking a shine to Jesus.”

         “Yeah, either I’m gonna marry him one day or kill him. Make an educated guess.” 

Rick’s grin crumbled. Although Daryl was just joking, the topic he had accidentally brought up reminded Rick that there was something they still needed to tell Glenn and Maggie. And he had no idea how to start, what to say and what reaction to expect. 

         “If you were to marry him”, he addressed Daryl shakily, “someone would deeply disapprove.” 

         “Oh”, Maggie replied, her expression impossible to read, “Jesus is taken?” 

         “Nooo”, Rick stretched the word unusually, “but Daryl is.” 

Both Glenn and Maggie looked at Daryl and found him displaying a perfect deadpan, something he had perfected over the years and wore like an armor, a mask to hide behind. But his body language gave him away. The way his feet shuffled, his breathing had picked up and his entire body seemed to have tensed, spoke of an immense agitation – like a wild animal preparing for either flight or attack.   
The young Asian exchanged a look with his wife and they came to a silent understanding instantly. 

         “We know”, Maggie said with a cautious smile. She saw the confusion on both faces and reached out to get a hold of Rick’s hand. “Relax. Both of you. This was probably kind of hard to bring up, but … well, we know already.” 

While Rick let out his breath in relief, Daryl’s eyes narrowed.

         “Just whatta ya mean, ya _know_? Who told ya?” 

         “We figured it out ourselves”, Glenn said with an insecure smile, while in the same moment Maggie gently tugged at the collar of Rick’s shirt and revealed the hickey.

         “If you really wanna hide something like that, better ask one of the women for some make-up next time.” 

         “Now wait a minute”, Daryl cut in, “ya see a hickey on him and automatically figure that was me? After that guy’s been apparently straight as a rod so far? Ya people nuts?” 

Again Glenn and Maggie exchanged a look and then Glenn cautiously cleared his throat. 

         “Actually, no, that wasn’t our first thought. As a matter of fact, we figured we had just missed it before and it was Michonne … never mind. Truth to be told, I had to get some fresh air the other night and was headed for the balcony, when I came by your room …”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed once more.  
          
         “You been eavesdropping on our door, ya li’l perv?”

         “Didn’t have to eavesdrop.” Glenn actually blushed, while he cleared his throat once more. “If you plan to keep the lid on it, you should try to …er, keep it down … you know …? Forget it.” 

He took a step back, when he noticed the piercing look in Daryl’s eyes, but the archer just turned to Rick a second later and wordlessly met his eyes.   
Rick had listened quietly, his eyes growing larger by the second and his ears turning a deeper shade of red. He just hoped, nobody else had to get some fresh air on the balcony during the previous nights.   
The revelation surprised him, that him and Daryl taking their relationship a step further had been audible even outside of their room. They hadn’t really _done_ all that much, save for some groping and kissing – lots of kissing, an incredible amount of kissing.   
Daryl was in no condition to go any further than that and neither was he. Besides, this _was_ indeed unknown territory to him and just recently he had been in a relationship with a woman, who died only few nights ago. _All in good time_ , his grandmother used to say.

         “Oh, man”, Daryl grumbled, “I get the bike.”

That said, he turned on his heels and headed to the carport in large strides. Glenn looked after him with a stunned air on his face, before turning to Rick.

         “Sorry. I didn’t mean to … He asked. I just wanted …”

         “Glenn”, Rick cut in calmly, “no sweat. You know him – if a situation gets uncomfortable, he either attacks or takes some time out. He’ll be back.” 

Despite of what Daryl said to him about risking his hair, his fingers forked through his curls in a helpless gesture.  
         “I know how this looks. First Jessie, then Michonne and now, right after she …”

Maggie placed her hand gently on his arm.

         “This is none of our business, Rick.”

He breathed in deep.

         “You are part of our group, part of the family. I care about your opinion.”

         “Would anything we do or say change _yours_?”

He looked at her with a silent plea in his eyes, then he slightly shook his head and simply said:

         “No.” 

She spread her arms.

         “Then why do you need our opinion? _You_ seem to be serious about this, _you_ appear to be happy with your choice and if it makes you feel good, you don’t need anyone’s blessings.”

         “No, but maybe some understanding.”

Again Maggie and Glenn exchanged a look and this time it was the young Asian who picked up.

         “We’d be lying, if we said, we haven’t been surprised. I mean, after Lori … you weren’t involved with anyone for quite a while. And now it’s … excuse me for being forward, it’s one after the other. And now even Daryl?”

Rick’s expression darkened visibly. 

         “ _Even_ Daryl?”

         “Now don’t twist my every word. You know, I think he’s a great guy – and he is. What I meant was …”

         “I know what you meant. And I know Michonne died only three days ago. But you know, sometimes all it takes is the threat to lose something … or someone, to make you realize just how much they really mean to you. It’s been Daryl for a long time. I just didn’t realize it. Guess I denied it even to myself, but whatever the reason, fact is, it could have been him dying that night.”

He saw both Glenn and Maggie grow pale. The young woman reached for her husband’s hand, while Rick added:

         “I cannot waste any more time. There’s no telling how much we got left and sometimes you just gotta do, what you gotta do. Like having a baby in the worst of all times – or starting a relationship many people will not understand or appreciate.”

The sound of an approaching motorcycle got their attention and they watched as  Daryl parked his bike out front the vegetable garden. He wiped his hands on the piece of cloth he used to carry in the backpocket of his pants and then dismounted to come walking towards the little group once more. 

         “Yer done chattin’ about Rick’s and ma business? Couse that’s what it is – _our_ business. Hell, I’d love to see people throw a party for us, but if they feel like rather runnin’ us outta town, tough shit. Don’t give a damn. Been waiting two years for that guy ta come to his senses and all ma fucking life for something _good_ ta happen to me for a change. Ain’t giving no explanations or excuses for it now, so learn ta live with it or go ta hell.”

Rick, Maggie and Glenn stared at the archer speechlessly. It didn’t happen often that he said that much in one go and never before had they heard him giving such a fierce speech. Someone was definitely serious here.  



	15. Chapter 15

  
Before either one had a chance to say anything, the sound of someone clapping their hands behind them, had all four heads turn.  
With a wide smile, Jesus stood a few feet away and looked at Daryl with apparent admiration, taking an imaginary hat off to him. 

        “Way to go, Dixon.”

Again Daryl’s eyes narrowed.

        “Who asked you? And why the hell are ya eavesdropping?” 

Jesus laughed once more.

        “Is there anything I can do at all, that doesn’t piss you off?” 

        “Yeah, jump off the tower.” Daryl didn’t see Jesus’ smile even widen, because he had turned to Rick once more: “Speaking of towers. Next counsil meeting I’m gonna make a motion for at least one new watchtower in Alexandria.”

Rick arched an eyebrow.

        “New watchtower? What …”

He fell quiet when he saw Daryl cast Glenn a meaningful look and the young Asian as well as Maggie caught on instantly. A knowing grin spread over Glenn’s face and Maggie started to giggle helplessly, while Rick looked from one to the other with total incomprehension written all over his face.  
Daryl rolled his eyes.

        “Gonna draw ya a picture”, he commented drily. “Ready ta hit the road?”

Rick shrugged and let his eyes wander over the assembled little group.

        “I guess.”

In the next second Maggie pulled him into a tight embrace, taking him completely by surprise.

        “I’m sorry. I do understand, honest.” And barely audible she whispered in his ear: “I’m happy for you – both of you.” 

He returned the hug with a relieved sigh and then pulled back with a smile on his face.

        “Thank you.”

Maggie reached out and gave Daryl’s wrist a hearty squeeze.

        “I second that motion”, she said, winking at him, which triggered a tiny smile on his lips. 

Glenn shook hands with both of them. He was at a loss for words, but the approving smile he gave them obviously pretty much meant the same as Maggie’s words. 

        “Be careful out there”, Maggie forced a smile on her face. “And give our love to the rest of the group.”

        “Be back before ya know it”, Daryl replied gently. “Till then, you take care of the li’l pumpkin.” 

This time her smile was genuine.

        “You got it.”

Daryl gave Rick a nudge to the shoulder and together they walked up to the motorcycle. Daryl mounted and started the engine, then he looked up at Rick, who stood beside him with a doubtful frown.

        “What?” Daryl raised his eyebrows questioningly. “C’mon, man, we ain’t got all week.”

Rick sighed, eyeing their means of transportation suspiciously. 

        “You’re gonna be the end of me one day, Daryl Dixon.”

A mischievous sparkle came to the archer’s eyes and with the hint of a smirk he replied: “Maybe, but the bike ain’t gonna have nothing to do with it.”

Rick cocked his head with wide eyes.

        “Are you talking dirty to me here?”

        “Nah.” Daryl suppressed a grin. “C’mon – hop on.” Rick arched an eyebrow. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout the bike, Rick.”

        “Sure.”

For a second Rick thought about slapping Daryl up the side of his head, but he reconsidered instantly. Any other person would have let this pass as a joke, a harmless gesture, but Daryl wasn’t any other person. It was pretty much the first rule everyone, who ever crossed path with their group, had to learn: _Don’t touch Daryl_.    
That was the one thing the archer never appreciated, unless he either initiated it or gave his permission.   
Sometimes Rick wondered, just what exactly happened to his boyfriend in the past that even to this day he would flinch when someone touched him while he was off guard.    
He hoped, time would be able to heal those wounds and that he could help to make the scars fade. He wanted Daryl to enjoy being touched, to allow it without feeling uncomfortable. And more than anything Rick wanted to show Daryl that the touch of another man could be gentle, tender and loving, entailing pleasure, joy or lust instead of pain. 

Without stalling further, he climbed onto the pillion seat and wrapped his arms around Daryl’s middle.    
With a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Daryl craned his neck and looked at him.

        “We ain’t even rolling yet. Ya don’t have ta hold on for dear life.” The smile widened slightly. “Least not yet.”  

Rick pulled back completely and looked at him defiantly.  
         
        “Like it better that way?”

They looked each other in the eyes and fought a silent duel, both biting back a grin all the time. In the end Daryl said:

        “Come ta think of it, maybe ya had better hold on after all.”

        “Yeah, that’s what I figured, too.” 

They waved over to Glenn and Maggie, who still stood in the garden, holding hands and watching them with a smile. In front of the doctor’s trailer Jesus stood with Harlan, both of them giving them a nod farewell. 

        “Hey”, Daryl called over to Jesus. “Thanks for the smokes, jackass.”

Before Jesus had a chance to recover from his surprise, the engine revved and a moment later the bike sped through the gate of the Hilltop out onto the road, headed towards Alexandria.   
Maggie, Glenn, Harlan and Jesus followed it with their eyes, until the gate was being closed and the bike and its two riders were out of sight.   
Up on the balcony of the Barrington House, Rose stood motionless and watched them disappear into the distance, torn between laughing and crying for a reason unknown even to herself.   
        She still barely knew those two, but they had touched a very soft spot inside of her and she would have liked for them to stay, so she could get to know them better. She’d been the witness to the start of something new, something wonderful and it pained her, that she may never know how that young love developed, if it would withstand all the obstacles that were undoubtingly going to be put in its way.   
Those two were … _unique_ and she just hoped that one day she would see them again.  
Her heart was heavy as she stood up there all by herself, dwelling on her sad thoughts, when all of a sudden she saw Daryl raise one arm and wave.  
Her heart made a leap of joy. Obviously he had spotted her in the rearview mirror and way too enthusiastically she waved both of her arms in return, barely able to refrain from hopping up and down. Before they disappeared behind the bend down the road, she thought she heard the bike’s horn. And then they were gone. 

 

As soon as the Hilltop disappeared behind a bend in the road, Daryl slowed down considerably and cast Rick a smile through the rearview mirror. They were alone out here, cruising, enjoying this time to themselves, even if it was only the ride back to Alexandria with all its threats and obligations. Rick wrapped his arms tightly around Daryl’s middle and pressed close to his back, playfully planting little kisses on his neck, which brought a grin to the archer’s face.

        “Will ya stop that? Don’t distract the driver, man. Ain’t wanna end up in the ditch.”

        “That’s distracting you already? What’s gonna happen if my hands were to slide lower …” He had his hands teasingly slide over Daryl’s stomach, approaching his crotch inch by inch.

        “Rick!”

The younger man laughed out loud and pulled back.

        “You’re easily distracted for a skilled hunter and tracker.”

        “Deer never went for ma dick.” 

That had Rick laugh even louder and Daryl cast an amused glance over his shoulder. He stopped the bike and turned to his boyfriend.

        “Haven’t seen ya laugh so often since … well, _ever._ ”

Rick leaned in and pecked his lips.

        “Guess you’re doing something right then.”

Daryl just shrugged with the ghost of a smile, that suddenly faded again. 

        “We’re still goin’ to _that_ place?”

Rick’s smile disappeared as well.

        “Yes. I gotta do that.”

        “ _We_.” 

That said Daryl turned back around and accelerated, this time going faster with a grim determination on his face.

Half an hour later they were back on the clearing in the woods, where four nights ago Negan had ended a life and started a war.   
It looked different during the daytime. The sun sent its rays through the trees, birds were singing and a gentle breeze ruffled the leaves. It was peaceful, even idyllic, but both men stood almost frozen in their spots, their hearts beating fast and a lump in their throats almost choking them.  
They didn’t see the sunrays, didn’t hear the birds or the wind in the trees. They saw the large bloodstain on the ground, relived the fear and horror of that night and heard the echo of screams and crying. And Negan’s gloating laughter.   
At the edge of the wood recently dugged over soil indicated Michonne’s grave, as well as a make-shift wooden cross, made of two branches tied together with a leather belt. Someone had planted a tuft of wild strawberries right underneath the cross and Rick had to swallow against the stinging sensation in his eyes.   
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. And someone was going to pay for this. Some way. Somewhere. Some day. 

Daryl nudged him with his shoulder and wordlessly pointed at the spot where Michonne’s blood had soaked the ground. He held both of their old shirts in his hands and now handed Rick’s back to the other man with a questioningly look. Rick took the piece of clothing with a determined air on his face and placed it almost solemnly on the spot Daryl had pointed out.   
It was the perfect spot, the only right one. This was where she died. This was where Negan crossed the line. This was where the war was started, although the Saviors didn’t even realize that yet.   
They would burn their soiled shirts right there – as a symbol, a ritual. The fire would consume all the horror and fear of that night, all the blood, sweat and tears would simply vaporize and be no more and in this very spot a new fighting spirit, new hope and courage would rise like a phoenix from the ashes. 

Daryl had dipped the ends of both shirts in the tank of his bike shortly and they were soaked with gas, likely to burn like tinder. And they did. For a moment the flames went up way higher than expected – angry, raging – as though Michonne’s spirit gave them extra energy, sending them a message.   
        _Never give up, never give in – make him pay._

The two men stood quietly side by side, staring into the flames. Their shoulders touched and the backs of their hands grazed each other. Without turning his head, Daryl slipped his hand into Rick’s and gave it a firm, reassuring squeeze. 

Right in that moment, he couldn’t even tell, why the contact was essential, but it was.   
He knew Rick needed this right now and maybe he did, too. It was another message, a gesture that said: _We will stand together. We will face whatever is going to happen side by side. This is how we plan to spend the rest of our lives – hand in hand. And today is the first day. The first day of the rest of our lives. However long that is going to be._

        “Two years?” Rick asked unexpectedly, having Daryl cast him a questioning look.

        “Huh?”

        “You’ve been waiting for two years, you said.”

        “Yeah”, Daryl looked into the flames again and watched as they slowly grew smaller and died away. “’twas worth it.”

He gave Rick’s hand another gentle squeeze.

        “But”, Rick added softly, “we had only just met back then and you were a pain in the neck for the most part.” He cast a teasing smile to the side when he saw Daryl turn his head to send him a warning scowl. “When …?”

        “The day back in Atlanta, when we went back for Merle. When _I_ went back for Merle and you backed me up.”

Rick expected him to say something more, but he didn’t. 

        “That’s it? That was enough for you to fall in love with me?”

        “’twas more than anyone had ever done for me.” 

He fell quiet and looked at the dying fire once more. There was nothing more to say and Rick just looked at him in awe for a moment. This man never ceased to amaze him. There were people still looking down at the archer, because he was rough around the edges and they confused attitude with simple-mindedness. But Daryl was one of the most complex characters Rick had ever met and there was some truth to the saying _Still waters run deep._ Way too few people had ever seen what kind of fascinating and wonderful person Daryl Dixon really was and it obviously took very little to have him give so much.   
Rick pulled Daryl into a tight embrace and sighed deeply. He felt as though a long journey had finally come to an end. As though after a long, exhausting search, he had found what he’d been looking for. And he wanted to hold on with all his might – to Daryl, to this moment. Didn’t want it to ever end again.   
But they had to go back. Back to Alexandria, to their family, to obligations and responsibilties – and a war on their hands.   
Maybe today wasn’t just the first day of the rest of their lives. It may just as well be the last, and with a stinging sensation in his eyes, Rick buried his face in the crook of Daryl’s neck. 

        “Ya better ain’t gonna cry in ma vest now, ya big Nelly”, Daryl teased, hoping to be able to lift Rick’s spirit. 

And when he felt the younger man suppress a chuckle, he knew that it worked. With a kiss on Daryl’s neck, Rick pulled back and looked the other man probingly in the eyes.

        “If we had a choice, would you go back?”

        “We got a choice.”

        “No, we do not. Like you said – what about Carl and Judith?”

        “Li’l asskicker.”

Another smile tugged at Rick’s lips. Li’l asskicker. Daryl was probably gonna call her that for the rest of their days.

        _We got a choice._

Deep down inside Daryl knew that there was only one way for them to go – and that was back to Alexandria. And for Carl’s and Judith’s sake he never even considered in earnest to head anywhere else, to leave it all behind and start over new. But he would.   
Rick was totally aware, that this was the hidden message behind that one simple sentence. _We got a choice_ meant _Your call._ As always. Unconditionally. Whatever he, Rick, was going to decide upon, Daryl would follow him. Whether they were going back to Alexandria or were to run off together after all, Daryl would stand by him. Always.   
Rick felt his heart swell about two sizes when he looked into Daryl’s eyes. What had he ever done to deserve this man?

        “Let’s flip a coin”, Daryl suddenly said, jolting Rick out of his train of thoughts.

        “What?”

        “Just to see.”

        “See what?”

        “What that bitch Fate would have had in mind for us.”

Rick just stared at him for a moment, unsure whether Daryl was joking or really meant it, but the serious look on the archer’s face spoke volumes. 

        “Don’t have a coin.”

Probably nobody had these days. What ever for? Even to carry a lucky penny would be kind of ironic.  
Daryl looked around himself for a moment and then picked up a flat stone he had spotted a few feet away. He got his knife out and started carving something onto one side of that stone, before he held it out to Rick on his open palm.

        “Here, carved a mark on the one side. That’s good enough. Marked side means we go back, unmarked side we run off. – Toss it.”

        “Why don’t you do it?”

Daryl just shrugged.

        “Fate hates me with a vengeance.”

        “That makes two of us”, Rick replied gravely. “Come on, let’s do it together then.”

He placed his hand on Daryl’s palm, so that the stone was embedded in the middle of their joined hands. Daryl understood.

        “On three?” 

Rick just nodded wordlessly and on the count of three they tossed the stone into the air and then watched as it fell to the ground a few feet away from them. Slowly they walked over to where it came to rest and looked at the result, looking each other in the eyes for a long moment. 

        “So, this is it.” Rick commented after a while.

        “Yeah, this is it.”

Rick crouched down and picked the stone up. He held it between thumb and index finger as he came back up, inspecting the marking on the one side curiously.

        “D?” He looked at the archer with the ghost of a smile. “D for Daryl?” 

Daryl shrugged just slightly, then suddenly something flared up in his eyes.  
        “D for defiance.” 

The smile on Rick’s face made room for the same expression Daryl displayed and the same glow came to his eyes.

He took out his own knife and carved something on the other side, before handing it back to Daryl. The archer took a look and then met Rick’s eyes once more.

        “R?”

        “Revenge”, Rick answered simply.

 

A moment later the engine of the motorcylce revved up once more as Rick and Daryl headed back to the street – into a known direction, into an unknown fate.   
Behind them on the new grave lay a single stone, a D carved into the one side, an R into the other – sending yet another message. To Negan. And to the world.

_ We are two sides of the same stone. We belong together. And we will stick together, no matter what. And if you dare screw with us, you better remember our names.  _  
_ They are Defiance and Revenge. _  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it!
> 
> I so hope, you liked it. Thanks to each and every one of you wonderful people, who took the time to read and comment or leave kudos. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, so please don't hesitate to drop me a few lines. It's highly apprecitated.


End file.
